Wood: The Ultimate Cure for Boredom
by MsSailorman
Summary: "In over a century of living, not even an erection. No sexual satisfaction. That would turn any seventeen year old dude into a grouchy piece of s***. But expound that by leaps and bounds and you get me: Edward Cullen, most sexually frustrated person on the f****** planet." So Edward's immortality isn't exactly going to plan . . . until her.
1. In Which I Meet the Girl

**Sooo, I'm back. I know a lot of you know how this story ends, but just roll with me here. Things have been absolutely freaking crazy, but I'm back. I apologize for disappearing and taking all my stories down, but I had this vague idea that I could turn them into something publishable and didn't want people stealing them off the Internet.**

**So, here we go, round two.**

**Enjoy.**

***V*V*V*V***

Vampirism was some fucked up shit. Seriously. Yeah, we had the whole sparkly, sexual magnetism for unwitting humans, but that mattered a total of zero, zippo, zilch. Especially annoying? The utter uselessness of sex appeal when you're a _vegetarian _vampire. That was a whole other bag of suck (Get it? Suck?). Basically, humans were still goo-goo gah-gah over us, but it's not like we could have a tasty snack when they tried to get close. It just made it harder to be good and not rip open throats on a whim. No easy task, let me assure you.

So after the utter fuckery of holding life and death in my cold hands, there was the delightfully added bonus of mind-reading. I guess I got the fucking short end of the vampire dip stick because I was eternally forced to listen to everyone's thoughts.

Did I really want to know that Mike Newton had been caught watching gay porn last night? That Angela Weber had masturbated for the first time and thought she was dysfunctional because she didn't feel much of anything? That Lauren Mallory had burned her step-father's favorite tie in an act of revenge? That Tyler Crowley wanted to bang the new student? That Eric Yorkie was sexually attracted to gummy bears?

No. My "give a damn" had been broken since Prohibition when everybody was fucking miserable from withdrawal. At least alcohol numbed the triviality of human thoughts. And don't even get me started on WWII – it had been unbearable. I had gone on a rampage. Damn Nazi bastards. Hitler's suicide? Yeah, not so much. It wasn't usually my style to interfere with human things, but that had been one guy that needed to die. One look into his mind and I knew I was committing him to hell. Eva had been a fucked up broad, too. She needed to go.

I had a brief period of being less emo during the 70's when _organic lifestyles _ruled. That had been a trippy decade where reading minds hadn't been a gigantic, flaming wad of suckage due to everybody being high as fuck. If only vampires could get high or drunk or stoned or buzzed or wasted or intoxicated or any other fun linking verb. I'd be a goddamn peach. But now when drugs were illegal and everybody was cynical and exposed to too much of the damn Internet? Fuck no. I was back to Oscar the fucking Grouch that lived in a garbage can. Oh, excuse me – RECYLCING bin. They'd changed his damn garbage can into a recycling bin in effort to brainwash children into being contributing members of society. Was nothing sacred anymore? Fucking Sesame Street. Fucking environment. Fucking Al Gore.

And oh god, that was just my attitude towards inane _human _thoughts. Vampires were much worse. Exponentially more annoying. Especially since they never slept and thought much more quickly.

Did _I _care that Esme and Carlisle enjoyed a BDSM relationship in their bedroom complete with sex swing, ropes, and gags? That Jasper liked to garden? That Rosalie would sometimes wear a silicone pregnant belly and pretend she was expecting? That Emmett liked to wear ladies' underwear?

Simple answer: hell no. There were things you just didn't need or want to know about people. And I knew them all. Everything they thought, I heard, too. It really was an act of stupidity on my part to live with a clan when I felt like bashing my head against the wall repeatedly half the time. But that would just damage the wall. And then I'd have to fucking repair it myself because somebody being paid to repair it would think we'd run a bulldozer through the living room or something.

The real reason I despised all of this – this life, my family, fucking humans, my goddamned useless sex appeal (hey, I'm sexy and I know it) – was because I was impotent. My cock was a little fucking traitor. Seriously. My junk hung there like a useless decoration. In over a century of living, not even an erection. No sexual satisfaction. That would turn any seventeen year old dude into a grouchy piece of shit. But expound that by leaps and bounds and you get me: Edward Cullen, most sexually frustrated person on the fucking planet.

And let's not forget the mind-reading, shall we? High school was hell. An atmosphere where every other thought was sexually based? Hell no. And vampires, though no one would admit it, were a bunch of sick, perverted, horny fucks. Some of them had sex for years without stopping except to drink blood. Sometimes that was part of the sex. The nastiest stuff you could imagine. Cults of devil worshippers who sacrificed virgins would be squeamish at some of the shit immortals have thought up over their long years. Aro Volturi was the most disturbing of all cases given his obsession with that kid's show _My Little Pony_, but I digress.

Summation: my immortal life sucks.

I hated my dick for all the fucking shit I dealt with. In all the thoughts I scanned, no other vampire had ever had this problem. I was the world's first vampire with erectile dysfunction. And it wasn't a secret. Goddamn Aro and his bastard mouth. He had touched me (no molestation, thank you very much) and seen my dirty secret. I was the laughing stock. Even my own adoptive vampire family teased me. Assholes.

But I suffered through it all, the martyr and pioneer for any other vampires with this problem (though I doubted they existed). I swallowed my daily dose of irritation and soldiered on bravely. I'm just fucking awesome like that. (Notice the sarcasm.) Why did I do it? Because call me a pansy, but it was better than being alone. Yes, I was a big, bad vampire and I had abandonment issues – sue me.

In any case, I was currently in the most uncomfortable place of Forks High School, braving just about as much as I could. The lunch room held almost the entire school, every student crammed in like sardines with the sole purpose of eye-fucking each other. The quiet ones were the worst. I had little faith in humanity if even the shy, quiet girls could focus on little else aside from sex.

Currently, Alice was sitting next to me, pretending to be interested in her apple (not like we could eat). But internally, she was thinking about the loud, obnoxious sex she and Jasper had last night. Because mentally experiencing it the first time wasn't enough . . .

I swore under my breath. Of course she heard it. The little pixie shot me a wink. She was almost as used to my consistently pissed off mood as I was. Hell, probably even more used to it. She could see the future. She knew I would be pissed off before I knew. (But then again, it didn't take a fortune telling bloodsucker to predict that I was going to be pissy on any given day. It wasn't rocket science.)

She saw the future. I read minds. Jasper spread emotions. And the rest of them were lame. Rosalie was just fucking impossible. Emmett was a vampire version of Arnold Schwarzenegger (prior to his political career and illegitimate child, of course). Carlisle was compassionate or some other bullshit like that. (The only thing that stirred my cold heart into empathy was Bambi. I loved that little fucking deer. Why did his mom have to die? Why?!) Esme was fucking crazy. I was pretty sure she was some sort of bipolar reincarnation of Martha Stewart. She was motherly externally, but got off on fucking Carlisle with a strap-on dildo (told you they were into some kinky shit) and burning different body parts of his only to watch them re-grow with a heaping helping of venom. It was sick and my "gift" got it all practically firsthand. Ugh.

But still, weird ass sex was better than none at all while I was slowly wasting away in androgynous exile. Damn dick. There had been times that I begged it to stir, twitch, harden . . . anything. But it was a lifeless lump between my hips. No amount of arousing porn, skilled prostitutes, or failed masturbation would bring it to life. There had been that one incident in '84. I accidentally skull-fucked some poor girl to death. After thrusting my limp shit into a hooker's mouth so hard that the pressure severed her brain stem, I had decided to give up. Dead hookers just weren't cool, dude. It had been with difficulty that I figured I didn't want to let her go to waste and drank her blood anyway. The gonorrhea had made it taste weird . . . like sour pineapple.

Dead, STD-riddled sex workers aside, it was time for biology. The lunch bell had just rung and there was a collective internal groan from everyone at the thought of returning to educational time. Except for Mike Newton. He had PE the period after biology and was eager to look at other semi-naked guys in the changing room. He had a pretty bad crush on Emmett, admiring his muscles and taut ass. Hey, _his _thoughts, not mine.

I sighed, wishing for the millionth time in my existence that my dick was functional. Hell, even if I was homosexual, that would be ok. Just as long as the damn thing worked. (Shortly after the '84 Hooker Incident, I'd come to the realization that maybe girls weren't my thing. That had only led to some awkward gay strip club visits. Side note: never go to a strip club if you're a telepath. The human misery is almost debilitating.)

My brooding continued as I sat down in my usual seat by myself. Humans were smarter than I gave them credit for since they knew to stay the hell out of my space. Their thoughts became louder the closer they were and I purposefully maintained distance. Their sexual urges were just a slap in my cold, dead face. And good fucking god, what was the matter with kids these days? They had been getting progressively worse over the years. Their thoughts were more fully formed and visual and loud. In the good old days (before internet porn), everybody had just imagined things. And that wasn't nearly as bad since they didn't have concrete images. But this? A fucking nightmare. I halfway wished SOPA would pass just so that the pornographic onslaught would cease. And it's not like I needed the freedom of information. I had a constant brain connection to knowledge 24/7. Most of it unwanted, but whatever.

I settled into my usual seat and splayed out my books on the desk like a good little student. Edward Cullen, acting guru extraordinaire. I had to pretend on a daily basis that I didn't already know this shit. Hell, I'd already found several scientific inaccuracies within the textbook when I read through it. (Hey, with a malfunctioning dick, what else is there to do besides read high school science textbooks?) But they didn't pay me to teach – with good reason since I'd likely end up eating the schoolchildren or getting fired for doling out corporal punishment – so I sat back and waited for the disgusting teacher, Mr. Varner, to start class.

Speaking of which, Mr. Varner was picturing the new student – brown hair, brown eyes, pretty average looking. He was a total pedophile. Well, sort of. He never actually did anything, but he took an unusually high interest in young students of his. And this new girl – Isabella Swan, his thoughts said – was receiving that attention. I had yet to see her. But he was picturing bending her over his desk and humping the shit out of her. Ugh, sick fuck. No wonder his wife left him. His excitement peaked when he scanned the class list and saw that she was in this period. He'd seen her in the hallway and had immediately started envisioning a variety of nasty, surprisingly detailed scenarios. The new girl was apparently at the top of his list now for students he wanted to bang. He was almost as hormonally charged as the buzzing students around me.

The thoughts swarmed around me like a bunch of damn bees, always humming in the background. I wanted to swat them. And a swat from a vampire was roughly the equivalent to getting round-house kicked by Chuck Norris. Or so I'd heard.

However, I quickly found a logistical problem with having this so-called new student in this class period. The seat beside me was the only other one available, meaning she would have to sit next to me. Ugh, I fucking hate humans.

This Isabella Swan girl was evidently a complete klutz. As she began to enter the doorway, her toe caught on the edge and she literally face planted. I giggled. I'm over a century old and I fucking giggled like a patsy. But goddamn, her expression was priceless.

Her eyes – chocolate brown and quite an unusual color – shot up from the floor and glared at me as a delicious blush colored her face. Embarrassed, she quickly gathered her books and desperately scanned the room to find her seat. Her look of utter defeat when she realized she'd have to sit next to the only asshole that laughed at her was nearly comical.

I flashed a cocky grin and patted the seat next to me invitingly. What an unusual break in my brooding character.

_God, he should laugh more often. He's so dreamy. _

Those were thoughts directly from Mike Newton. Unable to keep myself from reacting, I literally craned around in my seat and shot him a disgusted look as he stared at me.

_Wow. It's almost like he heard what I was thinking._

Damn straight, Newton. Damn straight.

Isabella thumped down into the seat next to me with a huff, sitting as far from me as possible. I seldom found humans amusing, but something about this annoyed girl made me laugh. Weird.

So, here's where the story gets undeniably complicated. About three things happened in quick succession.

Number one) I breathed in and caught her scent. Oh my fucking god. Her smell was appetizing in ways I couldn't even describe. I wanted to fuck her blood and consume her from the inside out. I wanted to do a wide variety of nasty shit to her and bathe in the sweet nectar of her red and white blood cells. Fuck. I wanted to eat her and then fuck her. Or maybe eat her as I fuck her? God, decisions, decisions.

Number two) The most miraculous thing happened. My cock – the useless lump of flesh that hung like a stupid mistletoe – stirred. Ok, rephrase. When I say that my cock "stirred", I mean that it went from limp to granite hard in zero-point-six-two seconds flat, ripping the zipper of my jeans clean off and tearing through the denim with sheer force. It hardened with such speed that it smacked the underside of the lab table with a dull thud, creating an indentation in the wood. (Get it? My _wood _dented the _wood?_) And for a dude that is realizing the magnitude of his hard dick for the first time, I almost wanted to cry (if I could, that is). It was magnificent. Call me narcissistic, but my package, when erect, was nine damn inches, wide, and hard as a boulder. Probably harder. (Note to self: split boulder with cock as proof of manliness.) I was going to name it . . . Count Cockula.

Number three) This girl was brain dead. I mean, like, stone dead. I couldn't hear a damn peep out of her brain. _Way to go, Cullen, your dick picked the airhead. _Eh, maybe that was for the best. Fucking wouldn't require her to say anything interesting.

The girl, the sudden embodiment of all my repressed sexual and bloody urges, sharply turned her head towards me at the sound of the thumping table.

My vampire brain quickly absorbed all this information and I made the speedy decision of snatching my textbook from the table and covering my lap with it. (I'm a virgin. I still have my decency, you know.) I then went into an onslaught of calculations. Firstly, I was pretty damn sure that killing this girl wasn't a good idea. Not only would it mean undoing decades of celibacy from exsanguinations, but I _really _didn't want to be having sex with a corpse (despite the fact that I myself am figuratively dead). Make no mistake, I fully intended to have sex with this girl for as many times as I was able. My newly resurrected cock would never forgive me if I didn't. However, her blood was calling to me. How could I resist such a powerful scent?

I realized that my fingers had become claws and were dug into the wood grain of the biology table as I struggled to not drain the girl sitting not even two feet from me. Her dark hair was splayed over her face in protective cover, but I could see her beauty. That pretty mouth. I wondered how her plump lips would look around Count Cockula.

But I couldn't just get up. I had a huge fucking problem standing at attention and completely unwilling to go limp so long as Isabella fucking Swan was around with her delectable scent. Besides, if I left, the grand objective of fucking her would be delayed. Count Cockula twitched in objection, ripping the binding of my textbook in half and briefly lifting the table before it came clattering down again.

Isabella I'm-a-sex-goddess Swan glared at me before facing the front again, giving me the chance to unashamedly stare at her chest. _Heehee, boobies. _She might have been considered President of the Itty Bitty Titty Committee, but I didn't give a flying fuck. The girl, Buddha bless her, hadn't worn a bra and I could see some serious nips. It was during the viewing of said nips, that I understood why Vikings were into the business of raping and pillaging because no amount of "anything but yes means no" was going to stop me from having sex with this girl, brain dead or not.

Naturally, in my bloodlust and just the plain old lust, my own brain wasn't functioning at full capacity. Before I knew what I was saying, the words "do you want to go on a date with me?" tumbled out of my stupid mouth.

***V*V*V*V***

**As good as you remember it?**


	2. In Which I Make a Ghetto Cummerbund

**Well, the first chapter still has a good response and I'm a tiny bit flattered that so many of you kept alerts and favorites on the story despite me removing it. Spread the word that it lives!**

**Thanks,**

**MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

Smooth. As. Fucking. Ice.

She reared her head at me, cocking it in a way fitting for a bird. At least she lived up to her namesake. "Excuse me?"

It was just a hunch, but I figured that "I-don't-really-want-to-date-you-but-I-need-the-formality-to-lure-you-away-so-I-can-fucking-consume-you-or-rather-fuck-then-consume-you" wasn't an appropriate response. You'd think I would have learned how to talk to a chick after a century of living. Hell, even when I was still human I had girls trailing after me in their poufy dresses and pointy shoes. Now? Same story but with less clothing and some weird ass shoes had developed in this "fashion-forward" decade (fucking Crocs . . . need I say more?). But did any of that help me? Big, fat NO.

I hadn't said a single word to her except to titter at her humiliation as she fell down (douchebag move, I know) and I'd just asked her on a date. Fucking Dr. Love was in the building.

"You're new in town," I said, by way of explanation. That sounded like an acceptable premise. _Yup, just good ol' Edward Cullen taking the new girl out for a trip around town to see the sights . . . in Forks . . . because we have some great fucking sights . . . you know, trees and shit. Nothing suspicious there._

"My, what powers of observation you have, Sherlock," she said with mock admiration before turning her head to face front, ignoring me.

And that was it. I'd been shot down with a mere sentence as if I was as inconsequential as a spider she had just squished. _Of all the women in the world, you picked one that doesn't even like you, asshole. Great job._ I gaped at her, mandibles loose. Unfortunately, I drooled a little and some of my venomous saliva landed the table, reacting to the chemically plentiful varnish harshly – to the point that it snapped, crackled, popped (Rice Krispies) on the paint. Whoops. That had never happened before, but then again, I hadn't exactly spent the past century using my bodily fluids for science experiments. That was Carlisle's shtick.

"Mr. Cullen, what on earth are you doing?" Mr. Varner demanded, staring at the acrid smoke coming from the lab table. He strode over and experienced a little thrill at being closer to Isabella – I decided to call her Sexy Bitch in my head since she was both 3rd degree burning hot and . . . well – a bitch. "You know you're not supposed to touch the chemicals until you've been given instructions and you're not even wearing proper safety gear."

He assumed I'd been playing chemist and been messing around with the test tubes. Well, that was a better alternative than him thinking I had super spit or was an evil creature of the undead. Though how he'd jump to undead from chemically enhanced spit was beyond me. What I really wanted to know was what the fuck kind of chemicals they were letting high school students manhandle if they were likely to cause a combustible reaction. Jesus, they were lucky the school hadn't burned to the fucking ground. "Sorry, Mr. Varner," I said as contritely as possible, imagining six different ways I could kill him while making it look like an accident. Harsh? Yes. But I was a pussy vampire with a formerly dysfunctional dick that had made me the laughingstock of all vampires (I repeat: fuck you, Aro Volturi. Fuck you up the ass with a My Little Pony doll); I had to keep my reputation as a badass motherfucker up somehow.

Varner squinted at the table through his glasses, standing unnecessarily close to Sexy Bitch as she looked at me skeptically. She knew I hadn't spilled any of the vials or she would have seen me take one. "An apology isn't acceptable. You've damaged school property."

Considering that the lab table had seen many years of abuse, graffiti (could these high school students come up with anything more interesting than drawing penises?), gum, and other chemical spills, I figured I had actually improved the damn thing. But Varner liked looking powerful in front of his new object of infatuation and proceeded to fill out a detention slip. Whoopdeefuckingdoo. A few boyish grins at Ms. Cope and I could waltz away without being held captive. And at worst I'd serve the forty-five minute detention because, hey, what was another forty-five minutes compared to eternity?

Sexy Bitch watched as I was handed my detention slip and then opened up a notebook, beginning to write something, ignoring me again. Count Cockula poked me insistently in the stomach, begging me to capture her attention. Well, ok, more like capture _her_, but that was a technicality.

_Edward!_

I unwittingly flinched. Alice's shrill mental call broke me out of staring at Sexy Bitch (hey, that was 'SB' abbreviated which were her initials backwards. Goddamn, I was clever) and I refocused my little "gift" on her familiar mind. She was sitting in U.S. History listening to a lecture about World War II. Well, pretending to listen. As if she hadn't lived through it.

_Isabella Swan is about to get a paper cut. Get out of there before you massacre half the high school._

Mmm, a paper cut. For so small an injury and all the unnecessary bitching people made about having one, apparently it could cause a full-scale berserk-ing. Hmm, a minute rupture of the delicate veins, such a sinfully teasing taste of the circulatory system. I briefly fantasized about sucking on such a paper cut, nursing Sexy Bitch's finger similarly to how she would later treat Count Cockula. I had to control my shudder of pleasure and get back in the present. Highly intoxicating blood, spillage, rampage. Right.

I'd spent too long in my flight of the imagination; SB inhaled sharply to my right having cut her finger on the notebook she'd been scribbling on. Goddamn it. Who fucking did that? It's not like the damn thing ran up and attacked her. Given her earlier tumble, I might have to call her The Sexy Maladroit Bitch (yeah, motherfuckers, I said 'maladroit'). I watched in what felt like slow motion as a drop of her wickedly delectable blood spilled on the paper, a red mark on the white sheet. If I was Dr. Jekyll with a Mr. Hyde personality tossed in, I definitely felt the latter snarling, snapping his teeth, and waving his dick around like a bat, awaiting the moment to smack a piñata. Luckily, I held my breath. Just the sight of that promising drop almost undid me. I would have been slurping out the contents of her arteries if I'd smelled it. Whew, crisis averted.

Without a solid plan in mind, I clutched all of my books to my crotch – because that looked in _absolutely no way _suspicious – and jerked up from my seat. Some sick, masochistic part of me snatched SMB's blood-stained notebook at superhuman speed, depositing it into my pile of books without her seeing a thing. After a moment's indulgence in kleptomania, I bolted from the room at a speed that probably pushed the limits on what could be considered human. Varner yelled after me, but I didn't pause to take heed. When the future-teller said run, you hauled ass, no questions asked.

_Go to the men's bathroom, _Alice instructed.

I read her mind as I walked to the restroom, listening while she faked having cramps to get out of class. It only took her a few moments to catch up to me, shoving me into one of the stalls and following right after, locking the door behind her.

Well, this was one of the weirder situations I'd been in recently. Crammed into a men's bathroom stall with the vampire that was, for all intents and purposes, my sister . . . awkward. And let's not forget the raging hard boner. Well, boner probably wasn't a strong enough word. More like _stoner_.

"Give me that notebook right now, you idiot!" she hissed at me, snatching it out of my hands. I let go so it wouldn't rip. "If you were to breathe in right now, you would break down the stall and go hunting for the girl. You're such a dumbass!" She swatted me over the head with the book for good measure even though it wouldn't hurt me. "All right, I brought you a change of pants," she muttered briskly once through with rebuking me, matter-of-factly handing me my gym shorts as I kept one half of my ruined science textbook over Count Cockula with my other hand. I stared at the article of clothing she offered me, sensing clear premeditation.

So she'd had a vision earlier that this would happen and hid it from me. Since she was no longer focusing on having sex with Jasper to block out my little gift, I got the full view of it. Fucking bitch. She could have warned me. I said as much.

"If I'd told you, you would have gotten too excited and killed her by breaking her pelvis and fracturing her spinal column," she said with an eye roll. "Now put these pants on."

Under normal circumstances, I would have asked – more like told – her to turn around, but I was too keenly aware of the jokes they'd all made at my expense. Poor Eddie's malfunctioning penis. The only sexy ass vampire in existence that couldn't enjoy one of the few things that eternity had to offer.

So I literally ripped my jeans off and pulled the book away. _Be free, Count Cockula. You will rule the world._

_Shit, bet that could do some damage. It's bigger than Jasper's._

My eyes widened and I let out an ungodly giggle – second giggle in ten minutes, what the fuck? – as I scanned Alice's brain. My dick was bigger than Jasper's. He could shove that up his Confederate cowboy ass. Motherfucking huzzah to the max. Screw that empath asshole and his years of sending out waves of lust as he screwed Alice, torturing me. This was a beautiful piece of poetic justice unfolding, much to my sadistic delight.

Alice, realizing what I'd overheard, gasped, whisper-yelled (what was the goddamn point of whisper-yelling?) "just put some clothes on!", and then proceeded to mentally recite every line from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire backwards. Why she picked that movie to block me out was a mystery, but she claimed I looked like that British dickhead that died at the end. Ronny Patterson or something like that.

Still standing there half-naked – I wasn't going to be ashamed of nudity for a long, long time after this glorious experience – I grinned smugly at Alice. "How _much _bigger?"

"Oh, shut up, Edward. It doesn't count if you can't use it." Her concentration slipped. _Must be at least two inches difference. Oh, shit. Um, Harry Potter . . . Kill the spare!_

Two inches . . . fuck yeah. I knew all this martyrdom would pay off in the end. Cue the smirk.

"Wipe that stupid expression off your face. Here," she growled, withdrawing a roll of hot pink duct tape from her bag and shoving it at my chest.

I eyed it dubiously. "What do I need tape for?"

"Unless you want to rip another set of pants or have the most obvious erection ever, you need to tape your dick to your stomach." She spoke so self-assuredly (perks of being more accurate than the weatherman – not that it was difficult) as she zipped up her bag again.

"Are you sure duct tape is going to hold this bad boy? I've already dented the table," I said with no small amount of swagger, Count Cockula raised in a strained salute.

"I've _seen_ it. It's fine. Don't be a jackass. I'm going to call Carlisle now to have him contact the school to let you come home early. Go back to school for now like normal. And don't forget the duct tape."

"Did it have to be pink?" I whined. Why did she have to emasculate me when I'd _just _gotten a taste of manhood?

"I had Rose acquire it for me. She's a bitch like that."

"Wait, Rose knew about this, too?" Well, paint me pink and call me Nancy. A mind reader that didn't even listen enough to hear about a potential end to his impotency. Once I'd drained and fucked Sexy Bitch (not necessarily in that order), I would have to work on that.

Alice shrugged unapologetically. "Oops."

Oops, my sparkly white ass. "We'll be discussing this later," I muttered darkly.

She shrugged again and left the bathroom with SB's confiscated notebook, not even a hair ruffled. I stared down at the gym shorts in my hand. Living with Alice was trying, but I had to admit there were perks.

I sighed. Thus began the fascinating process of duct taping my dick.

Despite my whole vampire immunity, as a member of the male species, I cringed at the thought of adhesives in the crotch region in general, let alone duct tape which everyone knew was one of the coolest substances on Earth. That shit contained magical properties, period. It was right up there with WD-40 and silk. (Ok, yes, it was prissy to put silk on that list, but with my hyped up spidey senses, it was the bomb-diggity, like the caress of angel hairs or some equally improbable thing.) Anyway, my point was that I, an immortal creature, glared at that little roll of pink tape as if it had questioned my mother's sexual decency . . . god rest her soul.

"Goddamn it," I finally sighed to myself, hanging my head in defeat. Of course, the sighing required that I take a breath in for the first time since I'd set foot in the bathroom. Jesus H. Fuck, it smelled like the Satan's hemorrhoid-ridden asshole. What the fuck did they put in the food here?

Gagging, I pinched the material of my jeans and flicked my wrist, tearing them off altogether. Even amidst the smell of hell's bowels, I once more admired the new center of my world, standing out proudly like the champ he was. Of course, that moment quickly passed as I pressed the roll of tape to one of my hips and stuck the pink strip across to my other one, folding Count Cockula into his demeaning feminine cocoon. Fucking Rose.

_It's ok, buddy. I'll get you out of there soon._

Ok, I was probably being a pussy. The tape didn't hurt. If anything, the slight pressure alleviated some of the incredible tension I felt building. While not yet at a critical point, I felt the internal strain mounting. I wondered if something bad would happen if my erection lasted over four hours or if I would go insane from sexual frustration. More insane than usual, that is.

I briefly envisioned the sadistic pleasure I would feel if we had to move yet again, seeing that look of utter irritation and hatred on Rosalie's too perfect face. Of course, that was a moot point since Isabella Swan had been fated to die the moment I met her. And eating the local cuisine (or just the locals) was hard to do subtly, so we were pretty much screwed. Oh well, you win some, you lose some. Maybe we'd move back to Alaska.

_Edward, get the fuck out of the bathroom already. Varner is about to go looking for you._

Alice's mental voice, softer than usual with distance, still managed to project louder than anyone else's brain. So fucking annoying for someone so small.

Not wanting to explain my pink tape to Varner, I made quick work of my ghetto cummerbund, feeling less heterosexual by the second. With one more maneuver, I was wearing my gym shorts and my jeans were deposited in the garbage. I shot myself that extended-index-finger-thumbs-up-I'm-so-fucking-cool position in the mirror with an accompanying panty-dropping grin. My dick was in business and I already had my first customer, blood rage or not. Yeah, I was hot shit.

Well, hot shit without a plan. I couldn't stay in the bathroom and I sure as hell wasn't risking going back in that classroom to feel the hungry burn in my throat and potentially unlock my inner rage monster. Not happening. So I did something I'd never done before: I went to the nurse's office.

That was a big vampire no-no. They were way too fond of taking blood pressure and temperature, which was a bad fucking idea because a) we were technically dead and b) we happened to be roughly the temperature of a meat locker. And one should not have forgotten the potential for blood in there at any point in time. But I figured that not too much would happen between now and the time it took Carlisle to call the school to help me blow this popsicle stand.

"Can I help you?" the nurse asked me, a graying woman of forty with a no-nonsense attitude.

"I'm just feeling a bit nauseated. A girl in my class cut her finger and the sight of blood makes me feel squeamish," I said conversationally. _"Squeamish", that's a laugh . . . god, you're so damn hilarious, Cullen. If only anybody knew how funny you truly are._

"Do you feel like you'll throw up?"

"No, not anymore."

"All right. You can go lie down on one of the cots. Let me know if you feel like you'll be sick." She nodded at me, her mind already drifting to thinking about the electric bill she was behind on.

"Thank you." Edward Cullen, actor extraordinaire, _I'm here all week_. I laid down on the pleather cot, the duct tape squeaking against the material enough to make me snort. _Yeah, that's a sexy noise. How on Earth are you single?_

I gazed around the room, my eyes zipping around quickly. There were cheesy medical posters about the negative effect of alcohol and smoking, the different body systems, and a CPR instruction guide. Because in an emergency situation, you should wait and read the fucking poster. Of course, if I tried CPR, I'd probably end up cracking a sternum, so I wasn't one to talk. That's only if I successfully avoided drinking the victim's blood since he was on his way out the door anyway – it wasn't _exactly _like killing.

_. . . wonder if Sammy got the milk . . ._

_. . . shouldn't wear such short skirts to work. I can hear the sexual harassment claims now . . ._

_. . . three students absent in Craig's, two gone from Simon's, and one homesick . . ._

_. . . god, I want a cigarette . . ._

_. . . I hope Jen put Kayla to bed already. Probably have to pick up some cold medicine on the way home . . ._

_. . . this damn kid will get nowhere in life if he doesn't stop it with his punk ass attitude and stupid fucking clothes . . ._

The thoughts of the administrators poured into my head as I closed my eyes to absorb them, all near enough in the main office to be within range of my gift. Those were only the rough translations since people hardly ever thought with such coherency. It was more about interpreting certain sensations from someone's thoughts and linking it to an image in their heads for context. I processed the translations almost instantly given my years of experience. Lucky me. It was so much easier to hear the mind-numbingly inane or disgusting thoughts of those around me. Whoopdeefuckingdoo.

Determined to reflect on happier things, I envisioned the rivulets of blood flowing from Sexy Bitch's femoral artery, close to her achingly warm pussy as I fucked her. Mmmm, yeah. I'd put on Barry White for that shit and sip a blood martini, shaken not stirred. Suave as fuck.

Ahhh, but the quandary of afterwards. I wondered how long I could hold back before I killed her. It was clearly an inevitability, but I was so desperate after all my time being impotent that I wasn't above necrophilia. Hey, I was dead anyway. What would it matter? But maybe this girl – this delicious, tempting human blood bag – was only my awakening. Maybe my cock would work now. Hell, maybe I'd actually return Tanya's flirting. Her coven, friends of ours, lived all the way out in Bumfuck, Alaska and we occasionally went to visit. Tanya, the blonde with enough red to call it strawberry – because it makes perfect fucking sense to have fruit as a hair color – was hot, I'd give her that. She was as close to a nymphomaniac as I'd ever met, constantly wanting sex and slumming it among mortals for her conquests (again, I wasn't one to talk given events of late). I knew from her brain that she'd wanted me over the decades we'd known each other, but she was kind of a bitch, too. She only came onto me because she liked torturing me, knowing I couldn't reciprocate while secretly thrilling in the challenge of erecting one of the only straight dicks she hadn't been able to raise. It'd be pretty damn funny when I impaled her on my dick and fucked the shit out of her in return for all of the cockteasing. I smiled triumphantly to myself. Balls deep in vampire pussy, that's where I wanted to be.

It was with those thoughts that I nearly had a heart attack (if it was possible, that is). As I pondered Count Cockula's potential with these newfound possibilities, he went totally limp. There was suddenly a gap in the duct tape as I jerked my head downwards to examine what the hell had just happened.

Same old flaccid dick.

I won't lie, as a manly vampire incapable of producing tears – if I could have, I would have cried. And not just tears, full out motherfucking bawling as I curled into a fetal position. I had to bite back my sob as it was.

_Count Cockula, you bastard! Get back here! We haven't even gotten started yet, you bastard motherfucker! You've made me miserable for a century; you can't pull this shit now!_

I palmed myself through my shorts in a panic, hoping to elicit some sort of reaction. Nothing – shockingly – happened. Goddamn it! Motherfucking damn it! I was about two seconds from breaking shit, from smashing this fucking cot through the wall. Jesus fuck!

I needed Sexy Bitch back, her and her blessed voodoo. _Isabella Swan, resurrect my cock. For the love of Buddha, please!_

I thought of burying myself in her thighs, bathing in the sweet nectar of her veins. It was almost poetic – that's how much I wanted it. I was getting Shakespearian for this chick.

Bam, instant erection worthy of its own zip code. Thank fuck. I exhaled in relief as I felt Count Cockula reassuringly strain against its pink prison. Whew. I was so overwhelmed with unexpected joy that I nearly overlooked an important conclusion: Sexy Bitch owned my dick.

***V*V*V*V***

**Poor Edward.**


	3. In Which Sexy Bitch Owns My Dick

**Well, the response has been phenomenal! As of now, I have no current plans to re-upload my other stories given that I'm just terribly embarrassed by them. I hope you all understand. Maybe in time I will be able to overcome that or rewrite them.**

**Much love,**

**MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

So there I was. A one-hundred-ten year old virgin with a harder-than-rock boner, quickly losing hope for Count Cockula at the realization that I wanted to kill the only female he had decided to work for. This was serious, soap opera type of shit. I was tempted to look around the nurse's office for the undoubted appearance of someone's amnesiac, pregnant, long-lost twin sister.

But no one entered. Ok, vampire drama, party of one . . . like always. Sniff, sniff, tear, tear. _Don't be a pussy. Think this through. Use that unmistakably awesome brain._

Ok, ok, ok. Isabella Swan, for whatever reason, was potentially the only person capable of cooling down my hunka' hunka' burning love. This meant, under the law stating that the males species required sexual release so they didn't fucking murder people, that my need to have sex with her (preferably more than once) took precedence over my need to suck her dry like a juice pouch. I knew this. It was just a matter of deciding what to do with the information.

I, with no small amount of effort, was going to resist killing Sexy Bitch. My throat burned with dissatisfaction. Well, I amended, I would resist killing her until I had my fill of her body. My internal beast and Count Cockula both seemed appeased by this plan. Thank fuck. With all my parts in accord, I sighed in relief.

I thought of her blood. Could I do this?

I thought of her pussy. Hell yes, I could.

Alice, always an exceptionally clear broadcaster, snagged my attention as she experienced flashes of a vision.

_A purple room, innocent like a little girl's. Edward creeps through the window, peering in before his eyes fall to the sleeping form. Isabella Swan's lips are parted in a dream, restless in her unconsciousness. He stares at her, hovering above the girl's head, her long hair wet from a shower._

Well, that was fucking creepy. I apparently had no shame if I was reduced to watching her sleep. Stalker much? Jesus.

_Her eyes flicker open, immediately spotting the intruder. He freezes in place._

_A smile creeps on her face. "What took you so long? I was waiting for you."_

_ "__I had to hunt."_

_ "__Which one of God's creatures did you take down this time?"_

_Edward rolls his eyes. "A young buck," he says reluctantly._

_ "__Bambi!" she exclaims with mock indignation._

_He sighs. "Don't be rude. You should respect your elders, kid."_

_ "__I'm not a kid."_

_ "__You're a baby compared to me."_

_She pouts. "A kid would not have _these_," she brags, palming her breasts._

_He eyes her chest hungrily before collecting himself. "Has anyone ever told you that you're insane?"_

_ "__Many times." She grins._

_ "__So are you going to move over or do I have to push you?"_

_ "__That depends. Did you smell the scarf?"_

_ "__Yes." Edward pulls a navy blue scarf out of his pocket. "Here, take this back. It smells too much like me now anyway."_

_She accepts the scarf and presses it to her own face before frowning. "I don't smell anything."_

_ "__You wouldn't. Your nose isn't as strong as mine."_

_ "__Does it get easier? To be around me, I mean."_

_ "__You still smell delectable if that's what you're asking." He steps closer in a predatory way, a smile of seduction on his face._

_ "__Hey, none of that if you want to cuddle with me and maybe get to second base. If you play your cards right, that is."_

_He stops dead. "Under the shirt?"_

_She bites her lip in a come-hither way, crooking her finger at him, the picture of sexual promise. "Maybe."_

The vision ended and I ripped myself out of Alice's head in a hurry. Holy shit. What the fuck was that? I mean, presumably the future, but certainly not as I'd envisioned it. Not a future where she knew what I was. (If I was honest with myself, I'd planned to take her captive as a sex slave wearing a costume a la Princess Leia.) But no, we'd talked like equals, like a couple. A vision of sweet anticipation and comfort like a Lifetime Movie. I had seen myself speak to the girl without restraint of the truth, giddy about tits. I decided then and there that Sexy Bitch was dangerous if she could cause so much change. Who the hell was Isabella Swan and how were we going to get to that point? Maybe I could preserve her life after all, though how I was so at ease with a scent that had tortured and taunted me not even ten minutes prior was beyond me.

Whoever Sexy Bitch was, one thing was clear: she was mine.

Time to puzzle over the quandary I found myself in was scarce given that I soon had more pressing matters at hand. Esme – not Carlisle as Alice had said (some foreseer she was) – was here to pick me up since I had a last minute "doctor's appointment", though I figured it wasn't much of a lie since I would inevitably see Carlisle when he got off work. Carlisle, who was, in fact, a doctor. _Whoopdeefuckingdoo, you told one less lie in a century of them. Great fucking job. I guess your soul is saved now. Those people you killed weren't that important anyway._

No one could say I did cynicism half-assed.

With a few calls and some chatter with the secretary, Ms. Cope, in which I smiled charmingly because I knew it – and I quote – _made her uterus pine, _I was soon walking out of the school, free of the scent of blood that scorched my innards. While I was a tad of a manipulative asshole to flirt with Ms. Cope, keeping in the good graces of the administration was a very effective strategy for a vampire trying to explain away mysterious absences any time the sun made a miraculous appearance in the overcast Washington. Everybody thought we were avid campers. Because the posh Cullen family with their designer clothing not meant to be worn for anything involving labor and their ungodly pale skin that looked as if it had never seen the light of day was a perfect candidate for outdoor activity. God, people were so fucking dumb.

As I pondered the many failings of the human race, I hopped into the completely humiliating minivan that Esme drove around in some kind of attempt to recapture the motherhood that she had lost as a mortal. She took her maternal persona very seriously. Which was fine. Mostly. I knew from her head that her heart was in the right place. But being picked up from school like a child because I had been unfortunate enough to find a girl with singing blood was emasculating.

"Edward, dear," she greeted me sweetly. Her brain was churning out questions faster than I could hear them with an overarching vision of me making some kind of vampire bride out of a faceless girl and finally ending my depressing cycle of . . . well, depression. Clearly, Alice had ousted my situation to more than just Rosalie. Fortune telling bitch.

Esme's internal optimism had her mistakenly assuming that I must automatically have a soul mate and be hopelessly in love. I swear to god, her whole perception was like a romance novel with every last little end tied up in a neat bow and everyone happy. Of course, who could blame the woman? She'd thrown herself off a cliff only to be given a vampiric eternity with her mate and all the "children" she could want. Her thoughts, though sweet and idealistic, also drove me up the wall after extended periods of time since I had what Jasper referred to as an emotastic outlook. Given my frazzled emotions and befuddlement over the issues of Count Cockula, I had a short fuse.

"Esme, I won't say 'don't go getting ideas' because you clearly already have them. But Jesus, woman, give it a rest. I'm probably going to accidentally – or maybe not so accidentally – kill this girl anyway, so don't expect some happily ever after," I told her sternly. This was, of course, an elementary mistake.

"Edward Anthony Masen Cullen!" she chided sharply, quickly forgetting any information I'd imparted in light of my transgression. "I am your mother and you will not talk to me so disrespectfully!"

_Oh god, here comes the speech._

"I may not be your real mother, but I think of you as my own."

_I expect the same respect you would treat your real mother with, _I internally recited.

"I expect the same respect you would treat your real mother with."

_We are immortal creatures with long memories. You must always strive to be polite to maintain good relations._

"We are immortal creatures with . . . ," she spoke, though I stopped listening. I'd heard this particular conversation multiple times in her fanatic pursuit of being the mother hen.

Just as she was rounding into her next point about the story of the Italian and Russian vampires ousting each others' kingdoms and the grudges/resulting vampire wars, I interjected. "Esme, I don't need a moral lecture right now. In fact, my morality is at an all time high since I managed to not slay an entire classroom of children today." _Yeah, I had plans to kill one of them later, but that was surely forgivable with the way her blood smelled. _Vampires can rationalize anything. Fucking _anything_.

That distracted her enough. "What happened?"

"Sexy Bit – the girl – has the most appetizing blood I've ever smelled. It took all of my willpower not to kill her the instant I inhaled," I relayed, shuddering anew at the memory of such potency. (Read 'shuddering' as 'my dick pulsed excitedly'. Then read 'my dick pulsed excitedly' as 'Count Cockula nearly tore the fucking tape'.) _Down, boy. Down._

"But you didn't, Edward. That's the important part."

"I might kill her eventually," I warned. Maybe if I did it just right, I could make it look like an accident so we could stay in Forks and make innocent eyes every time we saw Chief Swan cruising the streets. Nonetheless, I felt it was fair warning to prepare her for the worst, to convey my need for SB's blood.

If Esme was at all taken aback by my casual attitude towards taking a life, she didn't show it and, more importantly, she didn't think it. "That is ridiculous. Aside from Carlisle, you have the best resistance out of all of us. You can't put our family in danger that way. You are away from her now and in your right mind. You'll just have to avoid her." Any hopeful fantasies she had about me finding love evaporated.

That was . . . that couldn't . . . shit, maybe that was a legitimate course of action. That had never occurred to me. Of course not. Just leave the girl the fuck alone and ignore Alice's foresight altogether. Simple. I'd been too induced in the ambrosia of her smell to think of such a thing. That's it. Leave her alone.

Not to be discounted, Count Cockula twitched disapprovingly, effectively reminding me why I couldn't take such a sensible route. _The vision. Those tits, man. Those tits._

Struggling, I declared to myself more firmly, _I will stay away from Isabella Swan._

Count Cockula went soft again in warning.

I almost screamed out loud at this ridiculousness. _What the fuck am I supposed to do, you douchebag? God, you _wish_ you were a douchebag. At least a douchebag gets some vaginal action. Unlike you. No, you want the one hoohah that doesn't like you and is certain to cause a whole shitload of problems. You're such a fucking dick – no pun intended._

Becoming panicky once more by the frightening lifelessness of my genitals, I repeated procedure and thought about the luscious lips of Ms. Swan, wrapped around Count Cockula in a very intimate way. He liked that, perking back to life with a swiftness that made an awful tearing sound from the duct tape. I cringed and looked at Esme, knowing there was no way she hadn't heard. She seemed to stifle a giggle, having been told in advance about my clothing problem.

Of course, then I remembered that I'd never responded to her idea about leaving Sexy Bitch alone. Count Cockula twitched. _Ok, her stupid idea about leaving Sexy Bitch alone. Jesus._

"Alice had a vision. I think I can do it. Be near her without killing her. Maybe," I frowned. "But the point is that I can't stay away."

Esme turned into our driveway, having already arrived at home given her automotive speed. A mother hen that liked like to drive 130 miles per hour in a minivan. Go figure.

"Talk to Carlisle about this when he gets home," she said, apparently done with this conversation.

"Yes, ma'am," I sighed, zipping around the car to open Esme's door. Because I was a fucking gentleman from a time period when you opened the damn door like you were supposed to.

"And Edward?"

"Yes?"

_Don't do anything stupid._

***V*V*V*V***

**What do you all think of Edward so far?**


	4. In Which I Kick Emmett's Ass

**I'm sorry reposting this story is taking a while. I have been doing edits to fit my ending a bit better. I hope you all enjoy.**

**-MsSailorman**

*V*V*V*V*

Our whole gaggle of geese made it home before Carlisle. I was shacked up in my room like usual when I heard the familiar sound of my Volvo cruising up the driveway. It soon became clear from the impressions of my four "siblings" that Alice had imparted the whole sordid tale. Great. Just great. I was tempted to burn her closet down, but it would just give her an excuse to buy more shit.

"Oh, Eddiebear!" Emmett sang gleefully from the garage, the sound carrying up to my ears.

Shit. Because he wasn't bad enough before. I groaned.

"It's about damn time, mate. We all thought you were gay," he gloated. The sad part? It was true. They _did _think I was gay. He suddenly burst into my room, though of course I'd heard him coming.

"Emmett, get the fuck out of here. I'm not in the mood." I rolled onto my stomach on my couch, ducking my head to scan through my music collection for the billionth time. Just in case my CDs (ordered first by date, alphabetically by artist, alphabetically by album name, and then by date of purchase if I had the same album on both vinyl and disc) had somehow gotten out of their perfectly placed order.

"Actually, Alice tells me you're very _in the mood_." He tossed a new roll of hot pink duct tape at me, grinning. God, this fucking family. Privacy was unthinkable between an empath that knew what you were feeling, a telepath that knew what you were thinking, and a foreseer that knew what you were going to do. Not to mention they gossiped like old ladies. Perverted old ladies.

Without so much as batting an eye, I flipped onto my back and chucked a lamp at his head where it shattered over his incredibly thick, stupid skull. It really was pointless since it wouldn't hurt him, but the illusion made me feel better.

"Aww, what's the matter, Eddiebear? Is the sexual frustration getting to your head? Get it? Your _head_?" He guffawed like the moron he was.

Yes, the sexual frustration _was _getting to me. I needed a release as of a century ago. And since it wasn't going to be a sexual release without Sexy Bitch, violence was preferable. "Your jokes were funnier forty years ago."

"No, they weren't even funny then," Alice chimed from the living room where she'd switched on the Home and Gardening channel.

"Hey!" Emmett said indignantly.

"Dude, I'm serious. You need to get out of my face. I am one taunt away from ripping your fucking arms off."

"Whoa, somebody needs to jerk off. But then again, I guess you wouldn't know how," he goaded, that brainless shit-eating grin on his dumb face.

I clenched my fists. That was it. I launched myself at his much larger frame, knocking him into the hallway. After his initial surprise – he never thought I would actually attack him – he responded by landing a punch to my gut that knocked me down the stairs. Motherfucking ouch.

As he charged after me, I dropped low and buried my head in his stomach, flipping him onto his back and snarling at him. He grabbed my ankle and brought me crashing to the floor as well. We grappled on the ground, snapping our sharp teeth at one another as we rolled about in an effort to be on top.

As I went to rip one of his ears off a la Van Gogh, I suddenly realized that this was my brother. I shouldn't be fighting him. I loved him after all.

"Jasper, keep your hippy peace and love bullshit the fuck out of this!" I hissed, recognizing the intruding feelings as manufactured. The waves of rational thought ceased and I was once more engulfed in the urge to feed Emmett his own testicles.

"Don't you dare wreck my house!" Esme cried shrilly, throwing herself into the action.

"Emmett, knock it off or no sex for a month," Rosalie added in an almost bored voice, giving him what I called the Rose Pose. Hands on hips, toe tapping, glare fully engaged, hair carefully tossed.

Well, the whole damn family was involved.

"At least take it outside," Jasper pleaded, pumping us full of agreeability. "And stay away from my germaniums!" Ah yes, Jasper and his gardening. Wouldn't want to crush his precious flowers. Hippy freak.

I glared at all of them from where Emmett had pinned me on the ground. "Fine. Get your fat ass off of me, you big oaf." I didn't exaggerate. Dude weighed a lot – and I'm not talking just husky here. Somehow the human to vampire transition added a few hundred pounds. You had to wonder where we stored the weight.

We both straightened, taking a moment to look around. It seemed like the big stone ball from Indiana Jones had been set loose in the living room. Chunks of the stairs were missing and the wall I had pushed Emmett into was sporting a moose-sized hole. And let's not forget the wrecked sofa and shattered floorboards.

Oops.

I had a feeling Esme was going to kill me if Emmett couldn't.

Well, shit happened. I had more pressing matters at hand. Like an asshole of a brother to demolish.

I felt Jasper try once more to calm down my anger and to squelch Emmett's sense of competition, but we both simultaneously growled at him and he sighed, giving up. He wasn't strong enough to make the both of us simmer down at once.

Like a true spectator sport, Alice, Jasper, Esme, and Rose lined up in the backyard to watch the finale of our brawl, ready to step in if necessary because god forbid we harm the geraniums. They knew that we wouldn't rest until someone had his ass handed to him and it was pointless to try to stop us. Vampires were kind of annoying like that, but hey, everyone needed a hobby.

"Ready?" I asked him. He spit venom on the ground near my feet and grinned.

"Born ready."

I rolled my eyes. I guess we had to trash talk just to complete this whole fighting extravaganza. "That's not what it seemed like when you were getting your face mauled by a bear," I said smugly, beginning to circle as he mirrored my actions. It was a low blow going back to how he had come to need some vampiric salvation – and god knows he hadn't forgiven the bear species since he liked to hunt them best of all, initiating a wrestling match every time as if to prove that he was finally stronger. Paging Freud. (Like anyone used a fucking pager anymore.)

"That's how we're doing this, huh? You shouldn't make fun of human weaknesses. What would your new girlfriend think?" he growled, cocky smile gone. Just then, he feinted right, sending me reeling in the wrong direction. He landed a kick to my shoulder which packed enough force to splinter the tree I landed against. Luckily for me and my kickass speed, I quickly got out of the way before he could ram his body into me as I saw him mentally preparing to do.

"For your information, she's not my girlfriend," I said through clenched teeth, landing a series of blows across his back before zipping out of reach again.

"Poor Eddiekins, can't even get a _human _girlfriend." His talk was obviously meant to distract me. And it fucking worked. Sexy Bitch was mine, damn it. I'd already mentally called dibs and he needed to shut the hell up about her.

"Shut up, fuckface!"

Noticing he'd struck a chord, he smiled all over again. "Ooh, defensive, aren't we? Touchy over a girl. What's her name? Izzz-ahhh-belll-ahhhh," he moaned, drawling each syllable as he prowled closer.

"Don't say her name," I warned him. _Dibs. Respect the dibs._

"Why? It's not like you'll get to fuck Izzz-ahhh-belll-ahhhh anyway. Not with all that," – he inhaled and made a sex noise, smacking his lips – "mmm, blood."

"Shut the fuck up!" I yelled again, louder this time, getting more agitated like a feral animal. I didn't know why it bothered me, but for the last time, motherfucking DIBS.

"Maybe I'll try some of Izzz-ahhh-belll-ahhhh's blood for myself," he goaded me.

I saw the mental image he had of sucking on _my _Sexy Bitch's neck with her breasts exposed and legs parted in as lurid a vision as he could think of to distract me. Oh, I lost it then.

Motherfucking. Lost. It.

I roared and charged in a blind rage, catching him so off guard with the force I mustered that I pinned him to the ground. Digging my knees into his shoulder socket, I made a hissing sound and pulled with all my might, my hands like claws.

He screamed.

I jumped.

"If you ever think about her like that again, it'll be your dick next time," I growled at Emmett before smacking him in the face with his own arm. I think the irony hurt more than the actual physical contact. Oh well. No one could say I didn't warn him.

He lay on the ground looking oddly asymmetrical without the limb I had just ripped from his body. I broke the ulna and radius across my thigh just for good measure before chucking the maniacally twisting arm into the creek behind the house, watching it quickly disappear downstream as it flopped like a fish.

Not pausing to be reprimanded by my family – all of whom watched in shocked horror except for Alice, of course – I took off into the woods. There was someone I needed to see.

*V*V*V*V*

**So close to adding the line "Quit hitting yourself" while Edward smacked Emmett with his own arm. Just saying.**


	5. In Which I Repent

**Hello, my lovelies. See? I'm being good. I posted another chapter right away. Brownie points for your poor author friend?**

**Love,**

**MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

I'd been to the Forks Hospital many times when visiting Carlisle, so no one questioned when I walked to his office without a badge or a visible injury, simply accepting my status as the privileged, brilliant son of their favorite doctor.

He sat in his leather chair, reading a medical book because that was the kind of shit he did in his spare time. The dude needed a hobby. Without looking up, he mentally spoke to me.

_Alice said you would come see me today. How may I help?_ His curiosity was genuine.

Finally. Someone Alice _hadn't _told. There really wasn't an etiquette book on how to tell your adoptive vampire dad that you wanted to fuck and kill someone badly enough that you would rip your brother's arm off. "I met a girl today."

He set his book down. This was big news. _Finally, _he thought, though he didn't intend for me to hear. Thanks a lot, Dad. "Oh?" he said hopefully.

"She smells – her blood is . . . I nearly killed her," I finally grunted like the caveman I felt I was becoming with my basic instincts. Sex and food. Cheers for me – I finally figured out the joys of manhood at the ripe old age of one-hundred-ten.

"Oh," he repeated, his tone substantially less cheerful. He should have known better than to expect butterflies and rainbows where I was involved. Edward 'Fun Sucker' Cullen reporting for duty.

"I have another problem – aside from her blood, that is."

"Oh." This man had a medical degree and he couldn't think of anything else to say except a two-letter word. Maybe his medical books were just well-disguised porn so he could keep up his knowledgeable physician appearance. That would explain his lack of insight.

Monosyllabic speech aside, I knew that Carlisle was a doctor well-versed in anatomy and completely accustomed to uncomfortable talk of body parts and nudity. However, it fucking sucked to have to admit to my little problem. _Well, _I thought smugly, _not exactly a little problem._

"She gave me an erection," I said without dicking around (forgive the pun).

"Ohhh," Carlisle said. At least we were up to four letters now – most of my favorite words were that length. "Are you all right?"

"Aside from the fact that I'll probably end up killing the girl long before I am satisfied, I'm feeling pretty fucking awesome."

"Language, please," he said, closing his eyes in a pained expression. He shouldn't have expected much impulse control from someone with a newly found reputation for tearing off body parts of those who irritated him. Of course, knowing Carlisle's interest in S&M, particularly the masochism part, he would have enjoyed that. (I knew this, not only because I could hear it mentally, but there were only so many times you could listen to Carlisle screaming phrases like "Ouch! Yeah, baby, make me repent for my sins! Give me that sweet repentance! Stick that repentance up my ass!" before you figured something freaky was going on in their bedroom.)

"My apologies. You'll have to forgive me for swearing when I'm a bit upset that _my damn dick only does its goddamn job for the one girl I might fucking kill._" Didn't everybody always say that you shouldn't hold back and that being forthcoming about what was on your mind was a good form of communication? Well, suck on that, Dr. Phil.

"Get a hold of yourself."

I took a deep breath. _Don't disrespect the doc. _"Sorry. I'm just freaked out, ok? I need some answers."

"I can run some tests right now. I'm on my lunch break."He smiled winningly and flipped his golden hair. _Yes, haha. You can't actually eat lunch. That joke was so funny the first thousand times you told it, you masochism-loving sodomite._

"What kind of tests?" I honestly couldn't think of one that would tell us why I suddenly had an erection the size of Manhattan. Not that I was complaining.

"A sperm sample would be a good place to start," he said delicately.

Ewww. I never wanted to hear him say the words "sperm sample" ever again. But verbal nastiness aside, some part of me was positively giddy. I hadn't tried to masturbate yet – shocking, I know – so maybe I would experience my first orgasm as a vampire. Drool. Hell, my first orgasm since a time when clavicles were considered sexy. (I took a moment to think of Sexy Bitch. I wondered if she had sexy clavicles. Well, that was officially on the list of Shit I Need to Know.)

"Where?"

"You can use my private bathroom." He pointed to an adjoining door of his office and flipped his hair again.

I knew from his thoughts that he and Esme had sex in that bathroom whenever she came to see him at work and he liked bending her over the sink so he could pound that sweet, sweet ass with a heavy helping of repentance – I ripped myself out of his thoughts, shuddering. Gross.

He tossed me a small plastic cup for the sample – because it was _totally normal _to keep sperm sample cups at your desk – and handed over the "medical textbook" he'd been perusing when I first entered.

"You might need this," he muttered.

I threw the book open to discover a nude woman with a nun's habit on her head, probably repenting for her sins. That hair flipping bastard _did _look at porn all day. I fucking knew it! I smirked at Carlisle. Totally busted.

He shrugged unashamedly and, to my surprise, gave me a wink. "Go get 'em, tiger."

Ooookay then. That was fucking creepy, but I guess it was the thought that counted. Actually, no. Even the proud thoughts of his son "finally becoming a man" creeped me the fuck out.

Armed with the little plastic cup and the Catholic pornography (I wasn't even entirely sure if Carlisle was Catholic, but he certainly had the guilt complex for it), I closed the bathroom door behind me with a growing sense of anticipation. This was the moment of truth . . . the hour of power . . . the minute to be in it . . . the second to be reckoned . . . the millisecond to . . . well, you get the idea.

I ripped the duct tape off in one motion, glad to shed the pink casing. Count Cockula gratefully sprang free, magnificent to me all over again. _Hello, gorgeous._ Oh, how long I'd waited for this. Nearly trembling, I carefully opened my old man's dirty book and gazed at the bare naked ladies, pushing my shorts down my thighs.

Holding my breath, I seized my hardened shaft, wrapping my fingers around it like the most important hand shake of my life. Holy shit, that felt good. Oh, the pressure. The blessed pressure. I stared at the exposed flesh of the magazine, enraptured, holding my cock tightly.

I should have known.

Only a second after starting, Count Cockula went limp.

The good Lord giveth and the good Lord . . .well, he taketh away because he was a sadistic sociopath bastard like that sometimes.

I got so mad that I broke a handful of porcelain off the sink, reducing it to pebbles as it clattered to the floor. "Cock waffle! Shittitsfuckersuckersonofabitchspawnofsatan!" I declared nonsensically. Quivering in an effort to control myself, I breathed deeply. Edward Cullen didn't do blind rage (circumstances involving Emmett excepted). Calming, I allowed myself a much more stately submission of "Motherfucker." I wasn't sure if the word was addressed to Count Cockula, God, or the world. Maybe all of those options.

_Edward? Everything ok? _Carlisle's voice chimed in my head, following closely by the errant thought, _I don't even know what cock waffle means. Is that a pastry?_

"Fine," I said, my jaw tense. I turned back to the matter at hand, forgive the pun. Looking down, I slapped my own dick and pointed an accusatory finger. _You better get your shit together._

Ok, this had happened before. I just had to keep my cool. Sexy Bitch. I repeated Isabella Swan's nickname in my head like a voodoo chant for summoning demons. Or dicks, in this case. All that was missing was a rain dance, but this bathroom wasn't big enough to allow for extensive choreography.

I remembered Alice's vision, thinking about Sexy Bitch's long, dark hair spread on her pillow like seaweed, her sultry expression, her hands cupping her own breasts . . . a future where I could potentially touch her tits. _Boobies._

Yup, there he was again. Hard and ready to go. Well, Count Cockula might be temperamental, but at least he had the decency to return expediently. The little bastard was punctual.

I stared at Count Cockula – I almost shortened his name to CC, but that sounded like a girl's name which totally wouldn't fly – and pondered what to do as the lyrics to "Like a Virgin" haunted me. Clearly, I had to keep a certain Ms. Swan in my thoughts.

_I bet I could make her repent. Her and those potentially sexy clavicles._

The more lascivious part of my personality – most of it, in other words – took over as I firmly cast Sexy Bitch in the role of Dirty Nun opposite my Penis-Packin' Priest. Shocker, the priest was fondling somebody. At least it was in my head and it wasn't a small boy. Cullen: 1. Catholic Church: -29. (Negative score, you ask? Yes. They had the Spanish Inquisition and all that shit, too. And don't even get me fucking started on the _95 Theses._)

Somewhere around the time I imagined SB calling me "Father Edward" and then morphing that into a delightful game of "Who's Your Daddy?", I finally got the courage to try again. With a mental image of binding her hands above her head with a rosary so I could ravish her uninterruptedly, I steeled myself and once again gripped my cock.

Scarcely daring to breathe (like I needed to anyway), I gave an experimental pump. Good God in Heaven, it felt good. Count Cockula wavered, perhaps sensing the lack of Isabella Swan's actual presence. I imagined sinking into her pussy and making that kitty purr with a new ferocity.

_Work with me here, asshole._

To my exorbitant relief, he held his head high. Literally. It was as if he had decided to humor me for the sake of my sanity because trust me – there was nothing more pathetic than attempting to jerk off your own limp shit. Well, dry sobbing in a fetal position after said attempt was comparable. (Aforementioned dry sobbing was a behavior I was likely to engage in if this didn't work and nobody wanted to see that shit. A tragically beautiful, brooding, grown ass vampire drying sobbing since he couldn't release the tears of the true pain he felt? A teen girl's wet dream – since she could cure me with her sweet, sweet lovin' – but pitiable to everyone else.)

In a valiant effort to avoid sinking down to such levels of degradation, I closed my eyes and pumped harder, feeling something close to warmth heating my insides. Oh, that was some good shit. Goddayum.

_Yeah, who's your daddy, bitch?_

That was when everything went to hell.

***V*V*V*V***

**If y'all could let people know that this story is back up, that would be phenomenal. Spread the word, will you? **


	6. In Which I Look Pretty in Pink

**Hope all my American friends had a lovely 4th of July celebration!**

**Much love,**

**MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

I came gloriously. I skimmed Heaven – and then lost my balance, abruptly losing altitude and crashing into Hell's gates with startling accuracy. You'd think a dude's orgasm wouldn't be so melodramatic, but I sincerely doubted there was anybody I could run a cross reference check with as far as waiting a hundred years to climax. That being said, it was magnificent . . . for all of two seconds.

I felt the most dizzying sense of fulfillment I could have ever conceived as tingles engulfed every inch of my stone body. Pumping my cock at a superhuman speed, the tension worthy of at least ten lifetimes snapped all at once, leaving me breathless and light. (Ok, that was just a super flowery description of me coming, but I ate that kind of shit up when it came to Count Cockula.)

The mesmerizing part? One hundred years of jizz jettisoned out of my body at once, exiting with such force that I was knocked back against the wall and the resulting semen was even strong enough to crack the mirror it spurted all over. Seven years bad luck. Maybe that should have been my first clue.

I watched with several realizations as I limply attempted to maintain my balance in a rapidly weakening state. Firstly, my man sauce was pink. No joke. (God, first the tape and now this?) I assumed it was a combination of blood and sperm, but I couldn't remember anybody else thinking about their gravy being the douchiest color available in the spectrum. Secondly, I hadn't stopped coming. Count Cockula kept going, pumping out all my blood. I imagined my body making a slurping sound as somebody finished a milkshake. Why the fuck wasn't it stopping? Shit. Shit. Shit. Thirdly, with the loss of what felt like a gallon of semen – which now coated the wall in a horrifying ode to rapidly freed, formerly repressed sexual urges – I was ravenous. I was crazed to the point of madness, my throat burning, my body aching, my hands reaching to find blood – any blood. This was a fucking hospital for Christ's sake. There had to be blood somewhere! I was going to die if I didn't drink soon. Really and truly fucking die.

"Carlisle," I rasped, sinking to my knees as my body finally stopped its terrifying release, "blood."

He broke the door down. I was so destabilized that I couldn't even read his thoughts, my own consciousness flickering for the first time since humanity, though the look on his face as he found his adopted son with his pants around his knees, dick hanging out (finally flaccid, for the record), sink broken, mirror cracked, pink jizz everywhere, and aforementioned hungry vampire unable to stand was fairly telling.

"Holy shit," he said, breaking his own rule about swearing. "What happened?"

"Blood," I repeated, my voice low and feral. I couldn't think. I was more animal than man now, my body and brain in tune for one common cause. Thirst. Fuck, I would have even eaten a baby deer right now – sorry, Bambi. Nothing personal.

He flipped his hair once just for good measure and took off, not stopping to ask questions. Thank god. I was about to attack the nursing staff. If I could move, that is. I writhed around on the floor some more uselessly, weaker than a human newborn. No, I wasn't going to be attacking anyone unless he or she kneeled down artery first into my waiting mouth.

Of course, no sooner had Carlisle disappeared than Alice came barging into the bathroom wearing a trench coat, looking like a strip-o-gram. Pulling open a side panel, she quickly shoved four bags of blood at me.

"Here, drink these."

I didn't question how she knew – it was useless when it was the same way she found out everything. She'd seen it. A little fucking warning would have been nice, but I wasn't going to complain about it as long as she came bearing blood.

Popping one with my sharp teeth, I inhaled. God bless Alice. The demon pixie had brought me human blood. Grade A shit, too. I gulped efficiently before voraciously tearing into the next one. Alice propped the broken door back up and waited impatiently for me to finish, examining the walls with a disgusted look on her face.

_Second time today I've seen Edward's dick, _she internally grumbled. _Three if you count the vision._

I didn't pay much attention, enraptured by the fourth and final bag. I was nearing full now, but it's not like I could gain weight from drinking more. I slurped my way to satisfaction and stood, finding all of my strength – and then some – recovered. Human blood did that to a guy. I'd have to wear contacts for a few weeks, but so worth it. I'd forgotten how good it was.

Finding the wherewithal to pull up my pants, I finally addressed Alice, still shaken by that horrific experience. "Thank you."

"This girl is causing you more trouble in one day than you've gotten into over the course of twenty years," she remarked. "You can imagine my shock when I saw you . . . well, when I saw all of _this _happening." She gesticulated at the opposite wall coated in pink.

"Does Jasper lose blood when you two fuck?" I asked crassly.

She shook her head. "No. And I hope you realize this is like, fifty times more ejaculate than anybody should have."

I grimaced. "Yeah, I got that." Well, I guess I hadn't fooled Count Cockula after all. Maybe I was meant to be by myself for the rest of eternity. Forever alone. What if this happened with Sexy Bitch? With that much blood loss, there was no way she would live through the ordeal. Not smelling like that and around a vampire with very little impulse control.

"Um, Edward?" Alice asked.

"Yeah?"

She pointed to the wall again, her mouth open in astonishment – a rare look for her, I assure you.

I turned my eyes to it. Holy fuck. It seemed like all of my "ejaculate", as Alice so technically put it, was . . . migrating. I wouldn't have been surprised to see it drip down, but it was literally defying gravity and sliding horizontally across the wall, almost as if summoned by some force.

"What the fuck is happening?" I demanded, watching a shit ton of pink jizz pool in the corner of the room, unable to cross through the wall. "I don't suppose Jasper's swimmers disobey gravitational pull either, do they?"

"Definitely not." She watched the bizarre display in revolted absorption. _Well, this certainly wasn't in my vision._

Not sure what else to do, I gingerly took that stupid sperm sample cup and scraped it against the wall, closing the lid soon after. Even in the little container, my semen was pulled in the same direction. I rotated the cup and it slowly travelled back. Fuck. This wasn't good, whatever it was – and I had a sickening feeling that I knew exactly what my jizz was attracted to.

*V*V*V*V*

Two hours later I had scrubbed away all traces of my semen – nobody else seemed to want that job – and Carlisle had called a private contractor to fix the bathroom with the story that a crazy patient had wreaked havoc. Not too far from the truth given my mental state.

Carlisle, with ill-disguised glee, was practically salivating for the chance to run more tests on both me and my sperm. (Take a moment to fully absorb that sentence.)

God, this was such a fucked up family. He had a real knowledge boner, excited to find out more information, to unlock secrets about vampires through science. I'll admit that Carlisle's work was important because the world had just recently provided the technology to understand our condition better, but still, that didn't mean I wanted to be a guinea pig in the name of the greater good. Fuck that.

"And how did it feel?" he continued to prod while I swept up the remnants of the broken mirror, disjointed reflections of my brooding, white face shining back at me.

"I thought I was going to die. I couldn't stand. Couldn't move. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why now? After all this time, why _now_?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out, Edward. Maybe you . . . well, maybe you've found your mate."

I growled at him, low in my throat, angry at the suggestion. A human as my mate? I'd be the laughingstock of vampires united more than I already was. "I don't even know her. She hates me."

Carlisle laughed gently and flipped his hair – a little habit that was really starting to get on my fucking nerves. "I didn't know Esme. Rosalie didn't know Emmett. Jasper didn't know Alice. But we're all mated, Edward. It's something more than emotional connection – you know that. There's something real and tangible in that bond. Maybe you've found your other half."

"All of you met either as vampires or as humans on the brink of death ready to be turned into a vampire," I pointed out. "And even then, your bond wasn't truly forged until your mate was already changed. I've never heard of a human as a mate. It's impossible."

"Is it?" he asked in that know-it-all way of his. "Ours are only three cases, not at all representative of every possibility in the world. Maybe this girl is your mate and maybe she isn't, but you shouldn't dismiss this. What happened in here," – he gestured to the broken glass – "is not normal. Something has changed and it has to do with the girl."

I couldn't deny him there. Whoever Isabella Swan was, I stood by my initial conclusion that she was dangerous. "If this is the kind of havoc she's causing, I'll be dead by the end of the week," I hissed.

Alice, who'd been looking out Carlisle's office window distractedly, suddenly stiffened.

_Isabella Swan sleeps in her bed, unaware of the intruder lurking just outside her open window. With a silent leap, Edward creeps into her room, prowling near the girl that has tortured him so. Her hair is wet from a shower, spread over the pillow like seaweed, the scent of strawberries tinting the air._

_After a moment's hesitation, he cups his cold, stone hand over her mouth and pinches her nose. It only takes a few moments for her to startle awake, her eyes frightened and wide. When she sees him looming over her, she tries to scream, but barely makes a muffled noise, hands clawing at his infallible skin uselessly. After a minute, she stops struggling, her eyes blinking away tears, but her gaze never wavering from his face – scared, accusatory._

_ "__It was either you or me," he whispers. "I picked me."_

_With that, her eyes roll back into her head from the lack of oxygen. Humans are so fragile like that. He keeps his hands in place a few more minutes to fully deprive her of life. After that, it's over. Gone so easily. Charlie Swan will find her in the morning, unmoving, cold._

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I shouted the moment the vision ended, repulsed. I'd killed before, but never someone innocent. Never someone sleeping peacefully in her bed. Thoroughly wound up, I jumped up from the glass I'd been sweeping, pacing around the bathroom too quickly to be human. This shit belonged on a soap opera, not in my life.

"What is it, Alice?" Carlisle asked solemnly, understanding I'd witnessed her vision.

Alice's face was, if possible, even paler than usual. "I saw him killing the girl."

"Look, I don't know what led to that future, but it's not going to fucking happen. Not so premeditated like that, anyway." I could almost forgive myself if it was because I'd lost control and just had to drain her – fuck, she smelled so delicious. It was practically inevitable. But strategically plotting her murder and not even drinking her blood? Fuck no. Even I had my standards.

Another vision gripped Alice now that I'd made up my mind.

_Edward shuffles into the biology lab, seeing Isabella Swan already in her seat. He sits down._

_Isabella Swan glares at him and quickly scribbles on a piece of paper, passing it to him just as class starts._

I know you took my notebook. I want it back. - B

_Edward stares at it for a moment before writing back._

What notebook? - E

_She glares again after reading his response._

You know what notebook. Give it back and I won't key your car. - B

_He laughs._

Go out with me this weekend and you can have it back. - E

Are you fucking serious? Just give it back. - B

I needed tinder for my fireplace anyway . . . - E

You fucker. Fine. Where? - B

_Edward grins widely at her._

Whoa, whoa, whoa. "Alice, when is that supposed to be?"

"Tomorrow," she answered, looking relieved. "Thank god. I would be so pissed at you if you killed her."

I narrowed my eyes at her. "_You _would be pissed?" Sexy Bitch was probably the only person I was capable of having sex with – I would be motherfucking enraged at myself. "Carlisle is convinced she's my mate, so you can imagine how _I _would feel."

Carlisle flipped his hair. "I just said it's a possibility. And what was this vision about?"

"He asked her on a date," Alice chirped, pleased as if this was her personal doing.

Carlisle gave me a good natured punch in the shoulder. "Atta' boy."

I stared at him. Jesus Christ. I needed to get away from these people. It was starting to feel like a sitcom. Marcia, Marcia, Marcia. "Run all the tests you need. I'm leaving."

"I wouldn't go home just yet. Emmett is contemplating burning your music collection and seeing you right now would solidify that decision."

"Why would Emmett do that?" Carlisle asked, clueless.

"I may or may not have ripped his arm off . . . and tossed it in the river."

"Edward! Why?"

"He was baiting me," I said defensively. "Jesus, it's not like it won't reattach." Everybody was being so fucking dramatic.

"Rosalie went swimming in the creek to get his arm back, you know. Ruined her shoes. She's pissed as well," Alice mentioned conversationally, refastening her tan coat and giving me a salute. "I have to go." _I just saw Jasper planning to have sex with me when I get back._

I rolled my eyes at her before remembering smugly that I had a bigger dick. Sure, it wasn't entirely functional, but goddamn it, it was bigger. Gotta' count your blessings or some shit like that. "Make sure to use protection," I muttered, thinking of my own one-minded sperm.

"Lame joke. You can do better," she said dismissively as she began to walk out of Carlisle's office. "Oh, I almost forgot. Here." She tossed me the notebook I'd stolen from Isabella Swan, producing it from the seemingly endless pockets on her coat. I wondered what else she was keeping in there and if this was some Mary Poppins type shit. "Don't inhale that until you're far away from people."

I nodded at her vague warning. Despite being filled to the brim with blood, I was sure that one whiff of Sexy Bitch's spilled blood would send me back into a frenzied massacring. Most unpleasant for the inhabitants of Forks. Besides, killing about seven civilians was basically half the population here so we couldn't afford too many casualties.

I clutched the notebook tightly – well, tightly in human standards – and gazed down at it. My personal lifeline to Isabella Swan. Without another word to Carlisle, I strode off, passing Alice in the doorway and soon leaving the hospital altogether. Once out of sight, I melted into the forest. I had to truly smell her blood, inhale her scent. Just like the vision Alice had showed me. Maybe that would keep me from killing her.

I looked down past my torso and cast a questioning glance at Count Cockula – resting after his intense and terrifying workout. _We won't kill her, right, buddy?_

Not that I expected an answer from my own genitals, but the silence was haunting even to me.

*V*V*V*V*

**So, I thrive on your words. Gimme.**


	7. In Which I Murder Bambi

**This story is well on its way to being much longer than I intended. It's odd for me to actually have so much written in advance before posting. I'm usually more of a write-as-you-go kind of gal, but this makes for fun superiority in that I hold all the cards. ;)**

**Much love,**

**MsSailorman**

*V*V*V*V*

"What the fuck are you looking at?" I demanded of the deer that, upon realizing danger was near, turned to look at me and froze in place with its wide eyes. The dumb creature was intruding in _my _field, eating _my _grass. "You're lucky I'm already full, you stupid shit," I told the dopey-eyed quadruped. It found my tone threatening enough that it skittered off into the woods. Good riddance.

I'd stumbled across this little clearing whilst hunting a few years ago and I had pretty much claimed ownership of it since then, legal or not. So far removed from civilization that not even a whisper of anyone's mind could reach me, it was my safe haven. Therefore, it was understandable that I was protective of it enough to yell at a deer that most certainly didn't understand English. Besides, I was in a foul mood anyway – not hard to be upon the realization that having an orgasm could potentially kill you. Something as small as a deer grazing in my special spot was enough to put me on edge.

While I muttered angrily about nature taking over, I automatically went to the center of the circular field, lying in the grass and staring at the cloudy sky. Center of my own world, master of the universe. This was what I needed – some control over my life. I looked at the precious cargo I clutched to my abdomen and wondered if it would really help me at all. It was like saying that a person should take a smaller hit of cocaine to keep from snorting a bigger one. Stupid. But then again, I wasn't a person at all – hell, I couldn't even feel the effects of cocaine. One of the fatal flaws of being a vampire: you couldn't get high. I'd heard the minds of some of Forks High School's finest while under the influence of drugs and it seemed like a good time. I could use some relaxation for the good of everyone. I wondered if marijuana munchies would translate into a craving for blood if vampires could get stoned. These were the kinds of thoughts that kept me awake at night. (Get it? Because I can't sleep anyway. Haha . . . ha . . . ha.)

I was stalling and I knew it. Some part of me was feeling cowardly at the thought of deliberately putting myself in pain again. No doubt about it that the hunger would burn and blister my throat. Maybe I should have just run away like that stupid deer.

_No, no, no_, I thought. _I have to try. _I owed my potential sex life at least that much.

Bracing myself, I sat up and flipped open the notebook, finding the page where a single drop of blood had dried. It didn't look so scary or potent when it was so small, but it was easy to doubt the strength of it now that I was away from Sexy Bitch. My attention was drawn away, though. In the left margin of the paper, written vertically without any regard for the lines, was some of Isabella Swan's cramped, untidy handwriting. I read it eagerly. Some insight into the mysterious girl that has captured my sex drive?

_top of the douchebag list so far – weird ass eyes, smug smile, asked me out, potentially on drugs_

What the fuck? Potentially on drugs? (I wish.) Who the hell did she think she was making quick judgments like that? And jeez, I had the special honor of being at the top of the list. Frigid bitch. _You sure know how to pick 'em, _I told Count Cockula sarcastically. I had absolutely no chance with this girl if I was attempting to legitimately court her. Of course, I hadn't decided on that plan yet because some part of me was still hoping for a sex slave that I didn't have to buy fucking flowers for or whatever the hell people did these days to get laid. You'd think that with as much as I was forced to listen to about sex and dating and relationships with all those horny teenagers around that I would have learned something by now.

_These are problems to solve later. You're not even sure if you can resist killing her yet. Worry about the wooing some other time, asshole._

The little voice in my head had a point.

_Well, here goes nothing. _With no small amount of apprehension, I inhaled.

My thoughts immediately went into a pattern that, when interpreted from its convoluted form, read something like this: _rip-kill-bite, yes, grrrrr-bite! And fucking! Sex and blood! Grrrr. Hulk smash. SQUIRREL!_

My head snapped sharply to the right as a small squirrel pattered up a tree with its fast pulse drawing my attention. It was like having ADD in that every hum of nature distracted my suddenly voracious appetite. My whole body thrummed with energy and, as could be expected at this point, Count Cockula had hardened again. Thirsty and horny, the summation of my immortal life. Well, mortal life, too, I supposed, but my memories of humanity were so faded that I could scarcely remember feeling such a sexual pull. Nope, nothing could compete with a certain Ms. Swan.

Her spilled blood, even dried and diluted by the pulp of the paper and the ink of the pen, entranced me. It seized every rational part of my being and essentially mindfucked it until I wasn't sure who or what I was anymore, scrambling on the ground and pressing the page to my face. Edward Cullen, prodigious son and well-mannered (most of the time) gentleman, was gone, locked away by my most basic needs.

While I frolicked around in the field, rubbing the notebook against myself indecently and pawing at it like a feline high on catnip, I understood implicitly– underneath the haze of hunger drowning my higher functions – why Alice had warned me to stay away from people when I smelled Sexy Bitch's blood. Even as it was, I was fighting my impulse to drain that damn squirrel – and squirrels tasted like ass and lettuce mixed together in the world's worst salad, so I knew I was out of my mind. By that urge alone, I once again was overwhelmed by how truly dangerous this petite, delicate human was. She could unknowingly cause the death of others just by smelling so good. At the very least, there were some poor forest creatures with large, cute eyes that were going to die in the name of this girl.

And, to top everything off, I was hard again. Perfect. Fucking perfect.

_Well, this has been a shitty day so far._

Edward "Rays-of-sunshine-and-happiness-and-other-bullshit" Cullen, reporting for duty. Could I be blamed? I was having the most intense battle between man and beast I'd ever had to face in over a century of living. Even the insanity of baby vamphood couldn't hold a candle to this unprecedented pull. While that was a miniscule flame, this current rush of pure craving was a goddamn atom bomb, mushroom cloud and all.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I hissed through gritted teeth, forcibly seizing my muscles to remain stationary so as to avoid jeopardizing my control – losing control wouldn't have been pretty for that squirrel . . . or for that stupid deer, come to think of it. I'd probably explode from all the excess blood. Glutted as I was on Alice's supply of human beverages already, this level of thirst would drive me to drink to the brink of a bellyache. (Say that five times fast.) I'd probably vomit blood in nearly as spectacular a display as my first orgasm.

Well, at least with Sexy Bitch around, I was not lacking in excitement.

***V*V*V*V***

"Oh, god! Yes! Right fucking there! Yes, Jazzy. Punish my dirty pussy!"

The unmistakable sounds of Alice and Jasper doing the nasty resounded through the house and it didn't take vampire hearing to know they were being fucking loud. There was a distinct metallic sound that told me they were making good use of that ruddy sex swing – they'd taken that idea from Carlisle and Esme. Jesus Christ, it was like they'd never heard of common decency. Aside from that, Jasper's telltale waves of lustfulness were emanating throughout the house. I felt it the moment I returned home and stood on the doorstep.

Unfortunately, Rose was blocking my way.

"What the _fuck _happened to you?"

I grinned sarcastically at Rose as I strode past her into the house, Jasper's emotions making me stupid. "Just a leisurely stroll. The usual."

"You're such a prick," she hissed, not affected by Jasper's feel-good mood. _I ruined my shoes because of you. Stupid fucktard. _"The least you could do is wash yourself off with a hose before you walk around in here."

She had a point there. After smelling the blood, well . . . I'd controlled myself for about two minutes. Then I had ripped into that trespassing deer with a sense of gusto unusual for me. Needless to say, I had made quite a mess of myself. My clothes were spattered in blood and fur, my hair matted to my forehead, my dick still erect, and my eyes glowing red with the consumption of all that human blood. I looked like the monster I was quickly becoming. At least I hadn't thrown up from all the blood like I'd expected – that would have been a first.

I saw in Rose's head a reflection of my own irritated, bloody face staring back at me, laced with her anger. Her mental image of me made me seem closer to the drug mongering retard that Isabella Swan thought I was. Jesus, I wasn't going to be receiving popularity awards anytime soon. Of course, I could always comfort myself with the thought that Rose was a bitch. Which she totally was.

"Why the hell should I clean myself off? This place is a wreck right now anyway," I pointed out to Rose as I took in the damage still remaining from my fight with Emmett. Esme was going to unleash Hell Almighty when she saw me again. Luckily, she wasn't at home right now.

"Go fuck yourself. If you ever pull this shit again, I'll eat your girlfriend myself," she threatened before zipping out to the garage – probably to tinker with her car like the speed freak she was.

I growled after her but was ultimately too mentally exhausted to pursue another fight. Limb-ripping got old pretty quickly – or maybe that one-time, horrifying orgasm had turned me into a big softie (Get it?). Despite my response – or lack thereof – to Rose, I decided to get cleaned up and look somewhat respectable. Why? No idea. Human habits die hard, I guess. Not that as a human I was so stellar in the hygiene department (who the fuck was in the early 1900s?), but seeing as my nose was a thousand times more sensitive now, I was keenly aware that I smelled like shit. Literally. I think I accidentally ripped open that's deer's intestines. Oops.

One much needed, miraculous shower later – miraculous in that no amazingly appetizing blood found its way to my nose, no annoying sibling said shit that required dismemberment, no creepy adoptive doctor father pounced on my pink spunk, and no life-threatening orgasms took place – I was staring at myself in the mirror. I'd only known this girl for a day and she was messing my life up. As in, fucking my life's ass gently with a chainsaw. My reflection – aside from the irritable amber eyes that leaned more towards red – hadn't changed. Not that I expected it to after all these years, but I saw some foreign emotion clogging up my features. Could it be? Could I actually feel this way about some girl clearly summoned from the pits of Hell to torture me? No, it couldn't be. It just couldn't. Because when I looked in that mirror, I saw the tiniest speck of . . . hope.

*V*V*V*V*

**How am I doing?**


	8. In Which I See The Girl Naked

**I love this chapter.**

***V*V*V*V***

_This is fucking stupid._

My internal voice – let's call him Vladimir, just for the shits and giggles – had a valid point. I was currently lodged in a pine tree outside Sexy Bitch's bedroom, waiting for god knows what. Hovering some twenty feet in the air, I felt I had more than transcended into stalker territory.

I hadn't intended to come here initially. After showering and getting dressed in one outfit of the hundreds Alice had smuggled into my closet, I thought it would be a good idea to steer clear of the house for a while. Esme was surely pissed off at me; Emmett would be waiting to ambush me in revenge; Rosalie . . . well, come on, it was fucking Rosalie; and Carlisle would be wanting to bombard me with questions about my pathetic sex life or lack thereof. Overall, I found myself venturing through the forest, away from the Cullen Compound . . . and into the backyard of the Swan residence.

I knew where Chief Swan lived in the same way that everyone knew everything about everyone in a place this small. Except of course for the fact that there were mythical creatures like werewolves and vampires running around willy-nilly and nobody seemed to find that suspicious. Humanity was fucking stupid sometimes. Nonetheless, it was with resignation that I scaled the tree outside her house, knowing I couldn't keep myself from perving out. Not so soon after I'd smelled that notebook. It was tucked in the inside of my jacket, close to my body. Closed, the smell was almost bearable, easier the more I inhaled. This gave me hope. Although, I don't know _why_ I was hopeful. I was sitting outside this girl's window like a complete fucking pyscho, proud of myself for being _fairly positive _that I wouldn't kill her. I wondered what Dr. Phil would have to say about shit like this.

In my quiet role of voyeur, I listened in on the sounds of Sexy Bitch eating dinner with her father. Chief Swan's heart beat a little bit slower than hers, but they sat together on the first floor eating what smelled like lasagna.

"How was your first day of school?" he spoke. Curiously, I found myself fixating on the Chief's brain patterns. Maybe the missing link to explain Sexy Bitch's radio silence. He wasn't a complete mystery to me like his daughter, but the impressions I got from him were muted, like trying to see through a foggy window. There was a strong bonding force of love, though. He _loved _his daughter. Hardcore. Damn it. I'd feel that much shittier when I inevitably killed her.

"It was fine, Dad. A little overwhelming."

"Was everyone nice to you?"

"They were fine. A little bit too nice, if you ask me." She paused and I heard her chew.

"Too nice? Was it a boy?" he asked in what I took to be a suspicious tone.

"Don't worry. I can handle myself, Dad. None of these losers deserve me anyway," she said sarcastically. _That's for damn sure._

"Darn right they don't."

There was some shuffling and the sound of running water while she cleaned up the dishes from dinner. The Chief opened the refrigerator and popped the tab on a carbonated beverage, settling down a little bit further away – in what I guessed to be the living room.

"Well, I'm heading to bed. See you tomorrow."

I grew excited as she climbed the stairs, opening her bedroom door and allowing me my first glimpse of her since her stunning rejection earlier today. How had she gotten impossibly hotter in the course of a few hours? Count Cockula strained, leaning in SB's direction yearningly. Goddamn it.

Peering in her window with wide eyes, I watched unblinkingly as she closed the door behind her and sighed deeply. Unaware of the exhibitionism taking place, she rolled her shoulders a few times and moved to her dresser, picking out a tank top and gray shorts. Then – dear god in heaven – she began to undress. And she wasn't just taking her clothes off; she was downright stripping. Humming a seductive melody, she _peeled _her clothes off, easing out of them like she was intent on eating out the hearts of every male within a ten-mile radius. She stared down her own reflection in a full-length mirror with what I could only call "bedroom eyes" as she sensuously shimmied out of her panties. I was flabbergasted and entranced. What kind of person did a fucking floorshow to change into her pajamas? Maybe my dick had good taste after all. I mean, fuck. If this was how she danced when no one was watching – well, when she _thought_ no one was watching – I couldn't imagine her prowess when she actually wanted to seduce someone.

Goddamn. Just when I had pegged her as my Sexy Bitch, she did shit like this. Who the fuck was Isabella Swan? As I began to ponder this mystery – lusty thoughts aside – she did a goddamned bend and snap. With her ass towards me. Naked. Pussy Shaven.

Christ on a cracker. This couldn't be legal. She was what? Seventeen? I could go to jail for shit like this. Who the hell was she keeping that vagina pristine for? Was there a boyfriend that I would be forced to kill for fucking my woman?

_Do you even hear yourself? "My woman"? You've said two sentences to her._

After seeing that last maneuver and wondering if she was indeed single, I couldn't help but groan. My mouth was filled with saliva and Count Cockula ached. This was torture.

Suddenly her head jerked towards the window. Shit, she'd heard me. Utilizing every ounce of my vampire speed, I hopped out of the pine and ran backwards into the shadows as she peered out the window and searched around for the culprit. It only took a second before she seemed to decide she'd imagined it and shook her head, turning back to her room. Well, fuck me if I was missing a single second of this spank bank material.

Jumping vertically, I latched my hands onto her windowsill and chin lifted my face up just high enough to test my luck further. She was stepping into her little shorts without any underwear – _fuck yes, my little dirty girl – _and her tits were . . . they were magnificent. Emmett's mental conjuring hadn't done her justice. This girl was perfect. Perhaps it was testament to my depravity that upon seeing her angelic beauty, I wondered how quickly I could fuck that shit up. I wanted to _destroy _that pussy and suck on her tits until she had bruises showing the whole damn world that she was mine. And good god, alpha and omega, creator of Isabella Swan's sweet, sweet ass – well, I thought I'd found religion.

_Yeah, maybe you should take her out to dinner first, fucktard, _Vladimir ever-so-helpfully supplied.

_Fuck you, Vladimir. She won't even want dinner when she sees what I can offer her._

At least, that's what I told myself. Women found me attractive. I knew it. I could read their thoughts, after all. Surely some sexing would change Sexy Bitch's mind when she found out how truly attractive I was. I could try and impress her. Or maybe play the sensitive type. What if she was into bad boys? Whatever she wanted, I would do it. I just had to figure out what that was exactly.

One thing became clear to me as she regrettably dressed and got into bed: I may have seen Isabella Swan naked, but I still had no idea who she was.

***V*V*V*V***

**Do you love this chapter?**


	9. In Which I Score a Date

**Did you all catch the Twilight marathon on TV recently?**

**-MsSailorman**

*V*V*V*V*

I would like to say that I didn't linger too long after Sexy Bitch fell asleep, that I went home to ponder the girl's inner-stripper, that I didn't outdo myself in terms of voyeurism and climb into her bedroom to watch her sleep. I would _like _to say I didn't do those things.

_Yeah, but you did, asshat, _Vladimir grumbled.

It was true. I hadn't moved for eight hours, watching my human sleep from an aged rocking chair that looked like it belonged in a nursery instead of a young woman's room. I also hadn't breathed for eight hours, knowing that would be high on the list of "Stupid Shit To Do". This girl's scent would be soaked into the whole room by now and I couldn't take the risk of ruining all the plans I had been carefully crafting as the night ticked by. I'd come away from the experience with a structured design of how to get Isabella Swan to have sex with me in "Operation Fuck-A-Bitch". (That was the working title. Vladimir said I could come up with something better, but those were just details.) Operation FAB (too gay?) was completely set otherwise. I was trying a catchall approach. I figured that by trying on different personalities, I would unleash them upon Sexy Bitch until the proverbial chink in her armor was revealed. This girl was a dirty whore on the inside and I just had to figure out a way to let her out.

"Hoe bag, that was my unicorn purse. The British are coming and I need my unicorn purse!" Isabella exclaimed.

It scared the shit out of me. Fearing she'd awoken, I took a startled breath – my first since making the decision to stay in her room. Oh shit tits. I felt her scent seize me similarly to how it had affected me in the forest. Her whole essence ensconced me. I could feel her body heat beckoning me, begging to consumed. Everything – fucking _everything _– was drenched in her scent. Fuck. Abort! Abort! Abort mission! There wasn't a fluffy squirrel to pounce on this time. Just a sleeping sex goddess that I _so _couldn't afford to kill.

My only defense was to studiously lock down every single muscle I possessed to prevent sucking the girl dry. This was a thousand times more powerful than that teeny drop of blood and my body and mind battled over the age-old question: to kill or not to kill?

"Those dirty Brits hate unicorns!" she whisper-yelled. The senseless words were enough to distract my need to feed. She sleep-talked. Huh.

Obviously, I controlled myself because what the fuck kind of story would this be if I didn't? (Boy meets girl, girl rejects boy, boy brutally murders girl? Yeah, how about a "hell no"?) But it wasn't easy. I sat like a statue for ten minutes before I felt I had steeled my will enough to take another breath. And ten minutes doesn't sound like a lot, but it fucking is, ok? The air sat in my chest like I was inhaling fire, but it was the sweetest flame. About twenty breaths later, I allowed myself to blink. The fire hadn't diminished, but I was acquainted with it now, like frenemies. Thirty breaths after that, I stood, trusting myself enough to move. This was nothing short of a miracle. This girl shouldn't even have been alive after my stupid slip-up.

I warily paced, my eyes ever trained on Sexy Bitch and her long, tangled hair.

"If you don't give me my purse back I will rip out your uterus and use it for a duffel bag." Her voice was chilling even as her eyes remained shut. That was the kind of tone that made you wonder if she'd tortured puppies as a child.

Whoa. Goddamn. Sexy Bitch was having some crazy ass dreams over there, surprisingly violent. And nonetheless, I found myself struggling to control my tittering. It wasn't appropriate to laugh considering I was trespassing and had nearly killed her a few minutes ago, but seriously. A uterine duffel bag? Who came up with that shit?

Yet one more side to the mysterious Swan.

I warily watched the girl in her fitful sleep, unable to keep still now. I felt like a caged lion, silently walking the length of her room over and over, staring at my potential prey, simultaneously lusting after her. I wondered if BDSM was anything along these lines. Probably not. I wasn't some Christian Grey, though the idea of trussing Isabella up most certainly appealed to me. (Ok, I fucking read the books. I admit it. I regret nothing.)

"_Ooo-oh, just wanna' have fu-uhn!" _my phone began chiming, outrageously loud in the dead silence of Sexy Bitch's room. Fucking Alice. That was her ringtone.

My human truly did wake up this time, but I dove under her bed before she could see me, quickly pressing "ignore" to Alice's call. Jesus Christ, that was a close one. As I became the literal monster under her bed, I held absolutely still, my stomach pressed to her floorboards as I didn't dare to breathe.

She stirred above me before yawning and slowly pulling back the covers, setting her feet on the floor over the edge of the mattress. Inches from my face, I saw her slim, pale ankles. I didn't have a foot fetish, but looking at her petite feet . . . well, I could see myself developing one.

I wondered what thoughts flickered through her head upon first waking and was left in the dark as she let out a long stream of swear words, though I had no clue why.

"Fucking a," she groaned in a sexy, throaty, sleepy voice that made Count Cockula pine. In much more of a hurry than before, she hopped out of bed and began rummaging in her dresser, extricating some clothes. Unable to resist, I peeked my head out a little, viewing her sleep-rumpled form hastily undressing and pulling on the first outfit she touched.

_That bitch is wearing lace panties. Goddamn, _Vladimir moaned.

Yes, yes she was. And they matched her black lace bra. As much as I appreciated her sartorial choices, I once again wondered why she would put that much effort in. Was some punk going to be seeing those panties? The same punk that she kept that pussy shaved for? I nearly growled in jealousy. I wanted to bite her right then and there – not to suck her blood, but to mark her and warn everybody that they'd be getting my foot up their ass if they touched my human. A simple love bite would do the trick, wouldn't it?

_Why don't you club her over the head and drag her to the nearest cave while you're at it? _Stupid Vladimir.

Without putting in time for the snazzy seduction routine, the girl was dressed in thirty seconds and rushed off to the bathroom to get ready for what I presumed to be school. I hadn't paid attention to the time though the sun had incrementally lightened the room – was that why Alice called me?

Once I heard Sexy Bitch begin to brush her teeth, I clambered out from under the bed, a few dust bunnies stuck to my clothing. This was my clue to leave before I did anything even more idiotic to get myself caught. Rose especially would be so pissed if I did something to make us move.

Much as I knew I should go, my body was tugged in Isabella Swan's direction, begging to be nestled deep inside her. _Good morning. I just watched you sleep all night. We're practically dating by that fact alone. Can we have sex now?_

"Get it together, Cullen," I whispered to myself, forcing myself near the window. On a split decision, I snatched the little gray pajama shorts she had left lying on the ground and stuffed them in my pocket praying she wouldn't notice their absence. A memento of the occasion and just one step less creepy than lasciviously rummaging around in her underwear drawer. Unable to justify staying any longer, I tugged open the window and departed into the crisp morning air. It was cloudy today. Maybe I'd get to ask Isabella Swan on a date after all.

*V*V*V*V*

"Could you at least _pretend_ like you're not contemplating murder?" Alice muttered, flicking her uneaten apple between her hands dexterously. Our motley crew (no, not the band) was seated at the usual lunch table where no lesser mortals dared venture, all of us staring at the shitty cafeteria food that we couldn't eat. (It was culinary abominations like this that almost made me glad I subsisted on blood alone.)

I supposed Alice had a point about my less than pleased expression, but Eric Yorkie – fucking _Eric Yorkie _– was going to ask Sexy Bitch out to the upcoming homecoming dance. I hadn't been paying much attention to the mundane thoughts around me until I heard Isabella's name – that had me zoning in on the culprit in a hurry – and had heard the faltering bravery of one young, mortal, weak _boy_. I didn't have biology with my human until after lunch and I'd been mentally preparing myself for my new approach all day – much to my disgust, far too similarly to the new owner of the top spot on my Shit List. I would be fucking pissed if Eric Yorkie foiled my plotting. But surely Isabella would say no to him. I mean, I was a bit – ok, a lot – out of touch with modern girls, but surely none found his bathroom humor and acne-ridden face too appealing.

_Sexy Bitch is a wild card, kid. Maybe she's into that, _Vladimir oh-so-helpfully intoned. I was seriously considering getting a new inner-voice. This one sucked ass. _Yeah, you're no bag of fun yourself, _he haughtily declared.

I sighed internally, ignoring him and returning to my odd combination of worry and murderous contempt.

Jasper, having been kicked by Alice under the table, worked to soothe my nerves and aggression. _Calm down, Edward. You already know you can get this girl to say yes._

He, too, had a point, I supposed. Feeling much more rational now – unusual for me since Jasper had altogether given up on purposefully influencing my feelings years ago (except in emergencies requiring the prevention of limb-ripping, of course) – I remembered that Alice had indeed foreseen my successful, albeit odd, dating attempt.

_You bribed her with her own damn notebook, Don Juan,_ Vladimir said with a scathingly casual tone.

_Fuck you._

_That would basically be fucking yourself, _he pointed out. _And we both know that didn't go so well the first time._

That fucker.

_Hey, relax, _Jasper mentally impressed, redoubling his efforts to calm me. He pressed his palm flat to my forearm, increasing his potency tenfold. It was a pretty cool party trick, though with a vampire's cold skin, he couldn't go around touching humans willy-nilly. Nonetheless, I felt my tense body go limp and I exhaled unnecessarily.

"Go get 'em, tiger," Emmett intoned as the bell rang, punching me in the shoulder a little bit harder than strictly necessary. He had a lurking drive for retribution over his detached arm, but had mostly forgiven me since Rose had been nurturing his wounded pride with pity sex nearly nonstop. Despite his personal frustrations with me, I did sense his sincere hopefulness that I would be able to bang this girl – which was nice, I guess. Creepy, but nice.

Jasper's Zen waves diminished in strength as we parted in opposite directions of the school, leaving me to my own devices. I wondered if the memorized dialogue of Alice's vision would be enough to get me through this day. Not that it was all I was relying on. I had my Cullen charm turned on high and round two of the pink duct tape fastened over my dick to hide my erection. And was that it? No. The secret weapon of Sexy Bitch's itty-bitty shorts were wadded into my pocket, emanating a constant heady aroma that had me well-accustomed to her scent now. It wouldn't be such a shock from my system to see her again.

_You've got a few memorized words, a 'charming' personality, and pilfered shorts. Yeah, good luck with that, _Vladimir snorted.

Clenching my jaw, I studiously ignored him and walked faster, my shoes creating a quiet, increased tempo as my anxiety got the best of me. Entering the biology science lab, I sat at my usual seat.

_And now we wait._

She didn't make a spectacularly clumsy entrance today, which, if I was honest with myself, was a bit of a disappointment. But she did, however, shoot me one of the most volatile glares I'd ever seen and proceed to all but slam her textbooks down on our shared lab table.

"Where's my notebook?" she hissed without any provocation.

If it was possible, I would have paled. What the fuck? This wasn't supposed to happen, damn it. Alice had seen her passing me a note! This was a goddamned conversation! I hadn't prepared myself for this shit! Even as I was mentally freaking out, I kept my voice even and open, widening my eyes.

"What notebook?"

"I know you took it, jackass. I want it back." Her face was flushed pink, her cheeks deliciously tinged with the angry blood pumping to her face. Her pupils were enlarged, staring at me with free contempt and rimmed with chocolate irises.

_Fuck her candy eyes. Look at those tits, man, _Vladimir groaned.

I did. They were excellent. So excellent, in fact, that I almost forgot I was in unscripted territory and frantically dusting off the Edward Cullen Book of Woo, 21st century edition.

"Supposing I _did _take it, what would you do to get it back?" This was the moment of truth right here. Not due to her answer, but because I needed to breathe. Praying to Buddha or Krishna or Allah or whoever the fuck had decided to listen to me, I inhaled. The burn knocked into me like a naked Miley Cirus on a wrecking ball, hammer and all. It was harsh, but not unmanageable given that her shorts were still in my pocket like an invisible force field, growing my tolerance.

Her eyebrows soared to unprecedented heights on her forehead, unaware of my urge to sink my teeth into her delicate neck. "Are you fucking serious right now? Give me back my goddamned notebook and maybe I won't key your car." So furious for someone that couldn't kill me even if she tried. She was like a ferocious kitten, an angry pussy, if you will.

Since Alice had basically fucked me over as far as predicting this outcome, I decided to wing it, hoping some approximation of our supposed conversation would score me a success.

"Tell you what, you go on a date with me and I'll give you your notebook back. If you still feel the need to key my car after you realize the extent of my irresistible charm, be my guest." I improvised a bit, but my fingers were crossed for the best. _Please say yes so I can get into your pants. Pretty please._

She flipped a piece of stray hair that had loosed itself from the messy knot on her head, sizing my offer up, eyes narrowed. Even as she decided whether or not to spit on me and my manipulative offer, I couldn't help but subtly glance down her body, taking in the details, trying to determine what made her so appealing to me. She was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, hair unkempt, face bare of makeup.

_You know what's underneath those clothes. _Vlad had a point.

Those lace panties were the shit. And I knew she had silky curves under there, hidden by the loose outfit. Aside from the physical attraction though, maybe it was because she was such an alien creature to me. Her reactions confused me, her silent brain a mystery.

"Where are we going?" she said after a beat.

I stared at her, once more befuddled before I remembered I was going for cool and collected. "Is that a yes?" I tried to smolder a bit.

The scathing look she gave me implied that I was of low mental ability. "Where. Are. We. Going?"

"Port Angeles," I spouted out quickly. "An Italian place." Of course, this was a stupid idea. I couldn't fucking eat – well, not normal food anyway – and I was taking this girl out to dinner.

"And after that?"

I paused. She wanted more than dinner? Goddamn it. What did teenagers do these days? Go to the movies? I hated going to the movies with all the thoughts of those around me crowding the big screen. "I didn't think that far ahead," I admitted. Not exactly cool and collected.

She looked at me expectantly with her hand on her hip. For one brief moment, I imagined her as a dominatrix, demanding things from me with a black-heeled foot on my chest and a whip in her hand. Mistress Bella. Mmmm, possibilities.

Count Cockula jerked against my new duct tape.

"Come up with something good and I won't ruin your paintjob," she ordered with a tone of finality that said everything was decided. With a curt nod, she sat down at her seat and directed her eyes forward, no longer paying any attention to me.

_I . . . I have . . . a date . . . an actual date . . . with Sexy Bitch. Fuck yes._

*V*V*V*V*

**You. How are you? Ok? Did you have a good day? What's your favorite color?**


	10. In Which I Kiss the Girl

**For those of you confused as to why you have an update alert, go back to Chapter 9 and read that. I accidentally skipped a chapter when I did my mass Exodus posting.**

**I was going to put their whole date in one chapter, but it was just too damn long. Hope you enjoy.**

**-MsSailorman**

*V*V*V*V*

I made no effort to look away, staring in fascination at this bizarre creature called Isabella Swan. Alice hadn't seen this future and I was no better off understanding Sexy Bitch now than I was this morning. First she was super pissed at me and then she agreed to a date? Not that I was complaining, but she wasn't a cohesive person in my head yet. I wondered if she had a multiple personality disorder and her setting was on High Bitch Mode today but had been rapidly switched to a more agreeable version.

_Or maybe you just have no idea what modern women are like, _Vladimir said.

Hardly even a woman. I mean, fuck, this girl couldn't even vote yet. Even though we were the same physical age, I began to ponder the true difference of our years. I'd lived through the Great Depression and my human had been born around the same time cell phones were invented. She couldn't drink or smoke or buy lottery tickets, wasn't even considered much of an adult. And yet she captivated me in a way no other human being, inexperienced and young or not, had. I checked her out again. Maybe it was just the tits. Those had to count for something.

Resigning myself to devoting mental energy on this subject at a later time, I focused on the present and took out a sheet of paper, writing out a line of script.

_I hope you realize you just agreed to a date with the top of your douchebag list._

It was ballsy admitting that I'd read her notebook – well, that one page since I'd lost control and hadn't gotten to flipping through it – but since this girl confused the fuck out of me, I gave it a try.

She didn't bat an eye, fluidly grasping a pencil and writing out a response. She slid the note back to me without so much as a glance my way. Her movements were so graceful . . . and yet, this was the girl that high-fived the ground with her face yesterday.

_I hope _you _realize you just asked out a girl that is definitely going to ruin your Volvo._

Her handwriting was exactly the same as in her notebook – cramped, dark, purposeful. I, as the kids put it these days, LOL'd. Varner gave me a sharp look – _fucking Cullen, stupid kid, wonder what he's laughing about – _but continued on with his lecture. Not that I was paying attention at this point. Stifling a grin, I saw Sexy Bitch smirk out of the corner of my eye before lifting my pencil again.

_You know what kind of car I drive._

I passed her the note.

_Only so I know which one to damage._

Staring at the small piece of paper, I wondered if this was some odd form of verbal foreplay – because it was kind of turning me on. Pocketing our little exchange, I remained quite chipper throughout the class, practicing breathing in her scent. It was almost tolerable now. You know, in a my-throat-is-on-fucking-fire-and-I-want-to-bathe-in-your-blood kind of way. But hey, progress started with tiny steps.

Class drifting by far too quickly, the bell signaled that my time with Sexy Bitch and her candy eyes was up.

"Pick me up at five o'clock," she said to me backhandedly, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and stumbling in the process. She began to blush given that her cool delivery was somewhat tarnished by that inherent clumsiness. The mighty Swan was infallible after all.

"Wear something sexy," I couldn't help but call after her, attracting the stares of several of our classmates.

She flipped me off and left without another word, swaying her hips.

Mechanically gripping my own school supplies, I left in a daze. Halfway into the realm of elation, the more pragmatic part of me was panicking – I only had a few hours to come up with an exciting date night.

*V*V*V*V*

"Make sure you pay the bill," Emmett insisted.

Jasper nodded. "And compliment her shoes. Girls like that."

"But don't over-compliment or else she'll think you're being insincere," Alice warned.

"For fuck's sake, what is wrong with women?" Emmett demanded. "If you don't say anything, you're an asshole. If you say too much, you're also an asshole. Why can't a girl just take a compliment these days?"

I had the fucking three Musketeers giving me dating advice. Once Jasper and Emmett had heard of my successful quest, they had decided to dole out some brotherly words of wisdom as Alice carefully tousled my hair and dressed me in some outfit of her choosing. I didn't pay too close attention given that I was trying to absorb all their information while battling a nearly painful boner and a battalion of nerves.

"Women are mystifying creatures," Jasper agreed sagely. "You should feel their emotional shifts."

"You two are not being helpful," I grumbled, already aware that the female species was fucking psycho half the time. I mean, I had a direct link to their heads, for Christ's sake. "And Alice, should I even bother asking you for advice?" Despite my dating success thus far, I was _so _not pleased that she had incorrectly predicted the future.

"I'm not apologizing again," she proclaimed, comparing two ties with precise focus. "Your human is strange. She's harder to read than everyone else."

"Why?"

"She changes her mind more often, I think. She's a wild one."

Hmm, I supposed that was fitting. A wild girl for the wild beast inside me. Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, Beauty and the Beast. (I like Disney movies. So sue me.)

_I wonder what she's like in bed, _Emmett thought.

I growled at him, my eyes narrowing. "Don't you even fucking _think _about her." I was still touchy about that whole subject given his earlier provocation.

Reflexively covering the arm I had previously ripped off, Emmett hissed at me. "Back the fuck off. I can't control my own thoughts."

"_Try_," I said in a more menacing voice than usual, ready to pounce out of my seat.

"Boys, calm down," Alice said irritably. "Edward will be late for his date if you start fighting now. And that will _not _end well." I briefly glimpsed a tangent of reality in which Sexy Bitch refused to go on the date with me at all because I wasn't punctual.

I backed down immediately. I really wanted this night to flow as smoothly as possible given my already shattered nerves. When did courting become so difficult? Where were the days when all you had to do to get the girl was offer her father a few cows and some money?

"Ok, I think you're ready," Alice declared as she fastened a gray tie around my neck and then smoothed my shirt collar down.

Despite the fact that my reflection hadn't changed in far too many decades, I glanced in the mirror. The black shirt made me look even paler than usual, almost mystical.

_I feel pretty. Oh, so pretty. I feel pretty and witty and briiiiight, _Vlad started to hum in my head.

_Oh, shut up._

Turning away from the mirror, I glanced around at my family trio – Rose conspicuously absent because she was still angry about her ruined shoes – and nodded at them solemnly. Vampire no longer, I was a man on a mission as old as time itself: I wanted to get laid.

It took some convincing not to leave half an hour early and peek in her window to see what kind of underwear she was wearing (God, I hoped it was the lacy kind), but I still arrived a few minutes until five and parked near of her little yellow house. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to go up and ring the doorbell or just wait for her outside.

My phone vibrated.

_Stay in the car. – B_

What the fuck? I looked up towards her window and saw Sexy Bitch outlined in the light of the glass.

_How did you get this number? – E_

_I stole it out of your student file. Now pull around the block. – B_

Who the hell was this girl? Surely she was joking. Not wanting to risk her wrath however, I did as she asked and pulled around the corner until I was out of sight of the house as per her specifications. It took only a minute for her diminutive figure to appear in my rearview mirror before hopping into the passenger seat where her scent flooded my senses.

I took a moment to speak, fighting the urge to kill her. Instead, I scanned her sartorial choices. She was dressed in a baggy, black jogging suit, though there were two black stripes of eyeliner smeared across her lids, intensifying that penetrating, chocolate stare. Her hair was pulled back into a stick straight, perfectly sleek ponytail, highlighting the paleness of her heart-shaped face.

The best and worst part of this? Count Cockula, fairly sedate since my brief foray into masturbation, was straining in my jeans with an unforeseen desperation. It wasn't that bad when I'd seen her previously. What had changed?

"You going to stare at me all night or are we actually leaving?"

Putting the car into drive, I commented, "Are those mutually exclusive?"

"Eyes on the road, hot shot." Of course, she made that command extremely difficult given that she began to strip in the front seat, peeling off her clothes to reveal a shimmery navy blue wrap dress that had a large bow resting at her left hip, begging to be untied. How was this the same girl I had seen earlier this morning? She was a seductress.

My mouth filled with venom and my grip tightened on the steering wheel. Oh boy. This was going to be a long night. "Nice shoes," I said in a strangled voice, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. Fucking Jasper.

"I hope this is sexy enough for you," she said with a smirk.

Clearing my throat, I tried to find a more navigable route of conversation since I didn't trust myself to comment on how much I approved. "So, care to explain why I had to pull around the block?"

"My father is the chief of police," she muttered as if that explained everything. "Overprotective. I'm hanging out at Angela Weber's house tonight as far as he knows. But since she lives down the street, it would look suspicious if I drove there, let alone if I got picked up."

It was more information than I expected given her usually abrupt style of speech, but interesting nonetheless. "Hmm, all right. But you weren't serious about getting my number from my student file, were you?"

She fixed her eyes on me with a devious expression. "Let's just say I was curious and it wasn't that difficult. Everything's on paper here and they don't even keep the filing cabinet locked." She shrugged without a hint of repentance.

"The more I learn about you, the stranger you get," I said with a certain amount of awe. This girl strip teased in her bedroom and casually stole confidential information. I wondered if she gambled on the weekends or made meth in her basement like Walter White. There had to be more to the picture.

"So while we're making polite conversation, what's the deal with you and the incestuous Fab Four?" she asked blatantly.

She was lucky I was a vampire and, as such, had superior reflexes or I might have swerved off the road. As it was, I gawked at her. "I beg your pardon?" (Translate as: _What the fuck did you just say?"_)

"I mean, I get that you're all adopted, so the blood relation thing all checks out logistically. But if your siblings are all, like, _couples, _what do your parents do? That must be super horrifying if your children are planning on procreating together, adopted or not. I mean, are they not allowed in each other's rooms or what? And what happens if they break up? It's like they're already married, living together like spouses."

Her bizarre train of thought derailed my own anxiety about this night. "Um, I guess I just try to stay out of it." Super lame answer, but she had a point about how weird it looked to an outsider that my siblings were all cross-dating. "It's not like we grew up together as kids, though."

She bit her lip in thought. "Yeah, I guess that's true. Do they have sex?" She really had no limits on her conversation topics.

"Well, yeah." This was getting seriously weird.

"Have you had sex?" she asked without hesitance.

"Do you usually ask about someone's sexual habits within the first five minutes of a first date or am I just special like that?" I fired back, not wanting her to question further down that line. Count Cockula was practically beside himself, begging her to change my unwillingly virginal status.

She let out a gust of breath. "Hey, I was coerced into this date. I don't have to play cute or laugh at your jokes or flutter my eyelashes or anything. If I have to be here, I might as well amuse myself. Besides, if I annoy you enough, I won't have to worry about you pestering me again."

Wow, ouch. "We haven't even left town yet and you're already trying to sabotage the night. That's a low blow, Swan. You have to at least give this a chance."

"Says who?"

"Says the guy who has your notebook," I shot back, just barely refraining from sticking my tongue out.

She crossed her arms and sat back in her seat like a petulant child. I decided her dress and fierce hairdo were more like armor than fashion, a false front to distract me similarly as her brash conversation did. "You're staring at me again."

"I think you're beautiful," I stated simply. Count Cockula bobbed, nodding his own head in agreement.

She didn't have a snappy comeback for that one. She opened and closed her mouth before turning to look out the window. Silence fell over the car for a long while before she asked, "What happened to your parents?"

She really didn't follow a normal flow of conversation, I decided, noting her complete switch. No wonder Alice had trouble predicting her actions. "They died in a car crash when I was young." Car crash, Spanish influenza, same thing.

"I'm sorry." Strangely, she sounded like she meant it. "That was rude of me."

"It's all right. I barely remember them." I watched her bite her lip out of the corner of my eye.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen." _Sort of. _"How old are _you_?"

"Same." Huh. She seemed older to me, though I logically knew she'd only been living a short while.

"So you just moved here recently?" I prodded.

"Yes. I lived with my mother and her new husband in Phoenix."

"And now?"

"With Charlie. They were at that disgusting newlywed phase and it was time for me to leave." Her wrinkled nose displayed her distaste.

"You call your father Charlie?" I questioned.

"Not to his face," she said without offering further explanation. She didn't even miss a beat as she changed topics. "I miss Arizona. It's so damp here. It's rains all the fucking time." She gestured outside, where, even as she spoke, drizzling precipitation rolled lazily across the window.

"Yes, I suppose it does." Unfortunately, it was only climates like this where I could actually go out during most days. "Makes for beautiful landscape though." It was true. Everything was so green and lush.

"Have you always lived here?"

"No, I was born in Chicago."

"So underneath that preppy, well-groomed boy is an internal John Dillinger?"

If she only knew. "Yes. I smuggle drugs and rob banks on the weekends."

"Thank god. I need a new supplier anyway," she joked.

I laughed. "Maybe some marijuana would chill you out." I _mostly _meant that as a joke.

She rolled her eyes. "Been there, done that. Drugs are not my thing. Weed just gives me super munchies. Like, an ungodly craving for Doritos or whatever other stoner food is nearby." Shrugging, she turned her gaze to me. "Have you ever done drugs?"

"Me? No." Not for lack of trying, mind you. Stupid vampire imperviousness. "Never got into them, I guess."

"Hmm, interesting."

"What is?"

"You. I'm trying to picture you high." I wished I could read her mind with a sudden acute intensity. It was as almost as fascinating a puzzle as the most direct way into her pants. Almost.

"Well, maybe someday when my Chicago mob connections pay off," I said noncommittally. "Anyway, we're almost there."

"How the fuck are we already there when it takes an hour?" she suddenly demanded, in shock as she examined her surroundings more carefully. We were only a block or two from the restaurant.

"I drive fast," I said with a nonchalant shrug, enjoying her indignation. "Why, hoping to have more time with me?"

"No, but I'd be so pissed at you if you got a speeding ticket. Lots of the cops around this area know me since Charlie used to work here. It wouldn't be good if they mentioned seeing me in the city."

"I've never gotten a speeding ticket in my entire life," I said honestly. "Don't worry so much."

"Well, let's not make this the time to start, eh?"

I nodded in fake penance, smoothly peeling into a parking space just outside the restaurant. Rushing a little past what would be considered human speed, I loped to the other side of the car, pulling open Sexy Bitch's door because I was a fucking gentleman. Seeing her step out in that clingy, blue dress had me fighting an intense urge to fuck her against the car hood – not entirely gentlemanly considering I'm pretty sure she'd put up a fight. _Mmm, I'd like to see her fight. My feisty little human. _

Quickly realizing my libido was going to hell in a hand basket if I continued to entertain such thoughts, I straightened my spine and concentrated on the task before me: Dinner.

I wasn't even entirely sure how I knew of this little restaurant tucked away on a corner in Port Angeles given that I didn't eat, but apparently it was an upscale, highly-rated place. Not that I gave two fucks since, as aforementioned, I wasn't exactly a culinary fan – at least for human food – but Sexy Bitch's eyes widened as we walked in.

"I think you're ruining my reputation as a cheap date," she muttered grumpily in my ear as we approached the blonde hostess. I felt the left side of my body warm over with her heat like a tangible sphere of intersecting space as she leaned closer.

I stifled my laugh and addressed the young woman looking at us expectantly. "Table for two please."

_Oh my god, so hot – that jaw, shoulders, mmmm . . . _she thought erratically. This wasn't an entirely uncommon response from females – I even had a moment of thinking "_Ha, see, Swan? At least _someone _appreciates me!" _– but it was unwelcome this particular night.

"Of course. Right this way, please." The woman – Claire, her nametag proclaimed – snuck glances at me over her shoulder as she led us to a purposefully crowded area of the restaurant.

"Maybe somewhere more private," I murmured to her, suavely slipping a crisp bill into her palm.

She looked down at the fifty in surprise, unused to such treatment, before nodding and heading to a more secluded corner booth large enough for eight instead of just the two of us.

"Your server will be right with you," what's-her-face said – I'd already pushed her name from my memory – before departing with a reddened face.

Isabella stared at me from across the booth. More like glared.

"What?"

"I'm trying to decide how much of the privileged rich kid stereotype you fit into," she muttered, stroking her chin. "Reckless driving regardless of the safety of your passenger, stubbornness, entitlement, a stupidly shiny car, etc."

"You forgot devilishly handsome."

"And modest, too, no doubt," she volleyed back.

I nodded with approval. "Of course, of course." Smiling for a moment, I let my face fall into a more serious expression. "I grew up in foster care without any money, you know," I reminded her of my lie. Sure, it was false, but it couldn't hurt to play up sympathy for poor orphaned Edward. Chicks dug little lost souls.

She bit her lip in an expression I was beginning to associate with discomfort. "I'm sorry. I don't always think before I speak."

"That's all right. I prefer that to anything else." It was my honest opinion – it would drive me crazy to not know her unedited thinking at least partially with that blocked off head of hers.

"So is this what you do to all you dates? Blackmail them dinner where you proceed to take them to a super expensive restaurant to woo their panties right off?" She folded her arms under her breasts, momentarily captivating my attention as they plumped up.

"Why? Is it working?" I asked innocently.

She made a show of looking down at her lap. "I guess so since I'm not wearing any underwear."

I choked on my own venom. The one thing better than lace panties? None at all.

"Christ, I'm joking. Your face was priceless, though," she smirked, glancing down at her menu with a secret smile, briefly leering up at me through that thick curtain of lashes.

I cleared my throat. "Is this what you do to all of _your _dates? Relentless sexual torment?"

"Why? Is it working?" she answered back snippily.

I rolled my eyes even as a reluctant smile tugged at my mouth, surprised to find that I was enjoying myself. "For the record, this is the first date I've been on."

_Why did you say that, dumb fuck? I thought we were going for calm and collected, _Vlad practically shouted in my head. But I got the feeling that with a girl as spontaneous and canny as Isabella, the nearest version of the truth I could conjure was the best option. Call it a hunch.

Sexy Bitch's candy eyes swept up to meet mine. "You're shitting me." Ah, my eloquent human.

"Nope, you're the first girl I've asked out." I gave her a wounded puppy look. "Go easy on me."

Her mouth fell open before her eyes narrowed. "I can't decide if I believe you or not."

"Scout's honor," I said solemnly, holding up the accompanying hand signal.

Sunken into the red fabric of our booth, Sexy Bitch's gaze travelled over my face decisively. "So your Don Juan act is just a front, hmm?"

"Nope, I'm pretty much always this awesome," I joked.

"Oh, thank god. Because the world needs more egotistical, self-centered people."

At that moment, a waitress came up. "Hi, my name is Jennifer and I'll be your server for tonight. What drinks would you like to start off with?" She looked at me as she spoke, her lips pouted more than normal – from the impressions I got from her head – in an effort to make her mouth look fuller. Women were strange creatures.

_Claire was right. Totally hot – what I would do to this guy . . . mmm. Too bad he has a girlfriend. Unless it's his sister?_

The waitress' gaze flicked to Isabella and I was amazed at her perception of a plain, pale girl where I could see only a goddess.

"I'd like water please," I said politely, mentally trying to distance myself from her loud brain. This girl projected almost as emphatically as Alice.

"And I'd like a Sex on the Beach," Sexy Bitch said without batting an eye. (Even her drink order reminded me of all the sex I wasn't getting.)

Our waitress looked at her doubtfully, reappraising. "Do you have an ID on you?"

"Of course," she said sweetly, digging a driver's license out of her tiny clutch purse and handing it over. I tried to keep my facial expression neutral – I was good at it – as I witnessed the usage of an undoubtedly fake ID. The card looked official, of course, but I knew Sexy Bitch wasn't old enough to drink alcohol yet.

The waitress handed the card back since it passed inspection and wrote down the drink order before departing with her boisterous thoughts.

As we were left alone again, I simply raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look at me like that. A bunch of old men decided that I can't drink and I think that's fucking stupid. So screw them," she said oh-so-primly.

"So you've done drugs, you've lied to your father about being on a date, you've apparently stolen confidential information, and now you're drinking. Anything else I should know? Maybe you're the one robbing banks and smuggling drugs on the weekend."

"First of all, I did marijuana once and I didn't particularly like it. Secondly, people lie to their parents all the time, especially if the parents are police officers with a specialty in interrogation tactics. Thirdly, I was super bored and there was an open filing cabinet with your name on a folder tab. How could I not look?"

I was silent for a moment. "This date gets more interesting by the minute," I decided.

"And here I was hoping to frighten you off with my wicked ways," she said with a roll of her eyes, though I sensed she was only half-joking. "Why did you ask me out anyway?"

"Why did you say yes?"

She narrowed her eyes – a facial habit I was beginning to see as hers. "You can't answer a question with a question."

"Good thing I wasn't trying to answer you at all."

She bit her lip, trying to decide how stubborn I was. "I want that notebook back."

"Why is it so important to you?"

She pursed her lips and stared me down, clearly not willing to divulge any information. Keenly aware of my inability to read her mind, I stared right back, hoping some flick of an eyelid or wavering expression would clue me in. But my practice at reading faces for emotion had long since deserted me, leaving me completely dependent on my psychic ability. Fat lot of good it did me now.

After a veritable pause in the conversation, I said, "Well, if you won't answer my question, I'll answer yours instead. I asked you out because I've never met anyone like you before."

Some of her steely expression turned suspicious, as if I was secretly insulting her. "What does that even mean?"

"I've never asked anyone on a date before because I didn't want to. And when I saw you, I just knew I had to." It was the best explanation I could give without going into topics involving erections, pink jizz, the very real possibility that Count Cockula would rip himself from my body and lodge inside her given how hard he was straining in her direction, and the awkward voodoo magic drawing me towards her. That might have been a little too much soul baring for a first date.

As the waitress returned with another volley of intrusive thoughts and a round of drinks, Isabella took a deep, troubled drag from her cocktail.

"Are you all ready to order?" the server said far too perkily, jutting her hip out enough to emphasize her curves – curves I didn't bother to look at when I had my sexual fantasy sitting across the table. Turning her gaze on me, the girl asked me very specifically and suggestively, "Anything I can do for you?" Her mental insinuations were far more vivid than I would have imagined.

Something sparked in Sexy Bitch's eyes and she promptly scooted over in the booth until seated right next to me, resting her pink cheek on my shoulder like it was a familiar action. "I don't know, baby," she said sweetly. "What do you think?"

Baffled by this turn of events, I stammered, "Um, w-whatever you w-want."

She ran a single index finger down my chest and I thought my eyes might have crossed. "On second thought, let's just get the check now. I want you all to myself." Her tone left no doubt as to the sexual implications.

Our waitress, reddened face and all, coughed. "Will that be all then?" She gestured to the dainty pink drink.

Sexy Bitch nodded with a slightly vindictive smile, running a hand through my hair casually. Alice would probably be pissed at the destruction of my carefully crafted hairstyle, but I couldn't care. Not when her warm fingertips massaged over my scalp like a true lover.

As what's-her-face toddled off with mental disappointment written all over her, Sexy Bitch unwound her tiny frame from mine and tossed her hair.

"Dude, you're fucking freezing," she commented. "At least you get points for not even looking interested, but she really should know better than to obnoxiously flirt with a guy when he's already with someone. Just because you're ridiculously gorgeous doesn't mean I'm not worthy of a date. That presumptuous bitch," she said, cattier towards the end.

My jaw hung slightly slack at the fiery, gorgeous psycho I was next to. My body felt alive at her touch in a way that had escaped me for nearly a century, pounding with a pulse I didn't possess. I swallowed the excess venom in my mouth and cleared my throat. "So I guess we're not having dinner?" I said weakly.

For the first time, Sexy Bitch gave me a genuine, mirthful smile . . . which turned into chuckles . . . which turned into a full laugh as she watched me, her face delightfully pinked by her pooling blood. It came as a shock to me to realize that I'd barely noticed her aroma this whole date, adjusting to it far quicker than usual. Maybe it really was meant to be if I could overcome such a huge hitch so thoughtlessly.

I gazed at her in wonderment as she still giggled in aftershocks, inhaling the rest of her drink. When she resurfaced, her breath smelled like peaches and her eyes were luminous. "This isn't going at all how I thought it would."

Recovered a bit from her surprise advances, I had the presence of mind to ask, "What did you expect?"

"You're not what I thought."

"So I'm not at the top of your douchebag list anymore?"

"Hey, don't push your luck there, Sparky."

I laughed, none too offended. "My apologies. My apologies."

As the waitress silently dropped off the bill and I slid another fifty in, we began our departure.

"So where to now?"

"Well, since we've managed to skip dinner, my contingency plan is going to have to happen a bit sooner than I thought," I said mysteriously, leading her down the street and away from where we parked.

She went willingly enough, clutching herself against the chill that had started to invade the air. I tried not to think about how easy it would be to abduct her, to drain her as she so trustingly followed. Unable to help noticing, I realized that she walked closer to me this time, nearly brushing arms.

Without hesitation, I removed my jacket and placed it around her. "It's not much further," I assured her.

"If you're taking me to a strip club or something, I may be forced to kill you," she warned.

"That would be ridiculous. The nearest strip club is ten blocks away," I smirked.

She smacked my bicep. "Ouch! Jesus Christ, are you made of rock?"

I swallowed my chuckle. "Something like that." Attempting to ignore her proximity, I led on until we reached a tiny second-hand bookstore. It carried both obscure titles and well-loved editions all nestled around a miniscule coffee bar with plush seats scattered haphazardly. The whole place smelled like paper, ink, and espresso – a pleasing scent even to a vampire.

I watched Sexy Bitch take it in. "This is great," she said with sincerity. "Original."

For obvious reasons, I couldn't admit that I'd seen the jam-packed bookshelf in her room as my big clue that this might be a good option, but I nodded my head. "I'm glad you like it. Pick out anything you like. On me, of course."

She grinned and, just like that, she looked like a much younger girl despite her sexy dress and black-lined eyes, her face alight with enthusiasm as she quickly maneuvered through the cramped maze of ceiling high bookshelves.

I roamed aimlessly, barely noticing the titles. I'd read a lot of books in my asexual hell and they held little appeal to me now when I was so close to finding heaven. My plan ended here, though. I wasn't sure what would happen now. What if she didn't want to go out again? After all, I'd only asked for one date with the faked confidence that she would seek another. But if she didn't . . . well, she wanted that notebook back pretty damn badly. Maybe I could continue to use it as a bargaining chip. But that would just make me an asshole.

As I internally panicked about the future, Sexy Bitch rounded the corner. "There you are." She grabbed my wrist and pulled me along with her. Of course I went willingly as she led now. Maneuvering into a back corner of the store, she stopped suddenly, her eyes bright.

"That was quick. Did you find one you like?" I asked politely, though genuinely curious as to what she would choose in this whole mess of literature. Her hands were empty though.

Without answering my question, she took hold of each of my arms and physically positioned me with my back against the bookshelf, a copy of _War and Peace _pressed into my back. Unaware of her intention yet, I silently bent to her will, confused.

She took a step back. "Catch me."

"What?"

Then, without much warning at all, she jumped at me, draping her legs around my waist and linking her arms behind my head. If I wasn't a vampire, I might have dropped her flat on her ass. As it was, the shock nearly paralyzed me. However, my hands innately supported her waist as the tips of her toes grazed the spines of the books on the shelf below. Pressed together as we were, there was no way she didn't feel Count Cockula trying to take up a new home inside her.

She didn't comment, but instead ferociously pressed her mouth to mine. I was absorbed into her heat, mesmerized both by the blood pulsing in her lips and between her legs. My mouth moved automatically in synchronization with hers, establishing a rhythm.

"You're so cold," she murmured, breaking away briefly.

"I know," I said breathlessly.

She shrugged and, before I could explain it away as bad circulation – you know, _that _old chestnut – her mouth was once more insistent against mine.

Her tongue pressed against my lower lip and I nearly opened my mouth to her, wanting, out of some recessive human trait, to deepen the kiss. But I stopped myself just in time. I wasn't sure what would happen if she accidentally ingested my venom. Would she turn into a vampire on the spot? Would she die? Would it burn her like the lab table? Those were questions I didn't want to investigate the answer to.

To lessen the blow of partially rejecting the initiation of a make out session, I ducked my head to her jaw line, pressing cold kisses below her ear and at the base of her throat, tentatively suckling at her skin with the slightest pressure I could summon. And then, because I was a possessive asshole at heart, a little bit harder because I wanted to leave a mark, a signal that she was mine.

She moaned in my ear and I nearly untied that damnably convenient bow of her dress right then and there. A few of the books on the shelf behind me toppled to the ground randomly and I suspected she accidentally knocked them down.

Pulling back a little for air, she gulped in a breath and stared at me through half-closed eyes, still wrapped around my torso. "Um, I like books," she said by way of explanation, suddenly blushing furiously and nervously.

I tried desperately not to laugh, but couldn't help vibrating as I held the chuckle inside. She saw my quirked mouth and glared.

"Don't laugh at me. I'm not usually like this." Abruptly attempting to peel herself off of me out of embarrassment, I easily held her in place.

"I'm not laughing _at _you. I was just surprised, that's all," I assured her gently, breathing into her ear, feeling her heartbeat reverberate through my whole body. It was intoxicating, even as my throat blistered for her blood.

She rested her face against my shoulder and sighed. "There's no way you're a virgin . . . is there?"

I was rather suddenly uncomfortable. "Still on that topic, are we?"

"I just want to know what I'm dealing with. And don't lie to me."

I sighed. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, I'm a virgin, Ms. Tactful," I practically whispered. Hopefully not for much longer.

She nodded, eyes calculating. "Hmmm."

"What does 'hmmm' mean?" I demanded.

"It means that you're surprisingly slick for someone inexperienced."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment and leave it at that," I informed her.

She nodded and pressed a small kiss to my neck before perking up as if a thought had just occurred to her. "This doesn't mean I don't want my notebook back."

"I know."

"Am I allowed to get down now?"

"Nope," I responded promptly, enjoying her seeping warmth.

"Not going to lie, your boner is kind of making this awkward, flattering as it is," she said, always one to speak her mind.

I snorted before finally conceding, carefully letting her feet touch the floor again. "I'd apologize, but I'm not really all that sorry."

She laughed and patted her skirt down from where it had risen impolitely. "I figured." As both a new familiarity and a new awkwardness rose between us, she dropped her gaze. "Ready to buy me that book?"

"Anything you want."

*V*V*V*V*

**Long, eh? **


	11. In Which I Kiss the Girl Again

**Someone will have to remind me in the reviews at what point this story got chopped off before. I don't remember anymore.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

It took about ten minutes of searching for her to pick out a hardback copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ – "Mine is falling apart, after all" – to purchase. The owner of the bookstore, a gay fellow named Moe with a peppery beard and thick glasses, operated the register and we soon left with Sexy Bitch's prize clutched to her chest.

"I want a hot dog," she suddenly declared as we started the trek back to the car, pointing to the small stand that was vending her craved item. It figured. I took her to a fancy restaurant and she desired the shoddiest, shadiest food possible. Maybe she really was a cheap date.

One wiener later, we had packed ourselves back into my Volvo and were on the road to Forks. I drove slower this time. Not out of respect for her wish to not get a speeding ticket, but because I didn't want to part yet. As it was, I knew I'd be sneaking into her room tonight.

"So, not too horrible a date, I hope."

She smiled. "No, not _too _bad."

I clicked my tongue. "Gee, thanks."

"I had a good time tonight, which was definitely unexpected. So, you know, congrats on that."

"Can I assume that this means my car is safe from being keyed?"

"For now," she said vaguely, though her smirk had me hoping she was joking. To my surprise, she gently grasped my wrist and pulled it from the steering wheel, setting my palm on her knee over the thin cloth of her dress.

I stared at her leg for a moment, mesmerized by the pale flesh of her calf.

"I'm sorry. Is this ok?" she asked a second later. "I swear to god I'm not always this forward. Maybe it's the alcohol." She frowned.

"No-no-no," I protested quickly. "This is more than ok. I like that you're aggressive. I don't have to worry about stepping over boundary lines or anything if you're the one setting them." It was true. She may have been pale and small, but she had a big personality that was overwhelming and fascinating.

Her expression eased. "Ok." Her hand rested over mine as she focused on stroking the tops of my knuckles. "You really are freezing. Are you all right?"

"Bad circulation," I said automatically.

"What, all over?" she asked skeptically. "Even your lips were cold."

I shrugged. "I think it's a genetic thing. I don't know. I don't really have any relatives to ask," I pointed out, hoping to make her drop the conversation out of pity for orphaned Edward.

It worked.

"Well, as long as you're all right," she muttered, going back to tracing patterns on my hand. "I wonder what it would feel like if you fingered me. Like an ice dildo or something," she said without filtering.

My eyes got impossibly large and I looked at her in shock. This whole night was just unexpected action after unexpected action.

"I'm not suggesting you _do _it," she said defensively, seeing my face. "I'm just . . . posing a hypothesis."

"Well, any time you feel like, uh, _researching,_ feel free," I chuckled.

She shifted in her seat and bit her lip in what I could only describe as a come-hither way. "That might be . . . interesting."

I tugged at the collar of my shirt. Holy fuck. This girl was going to be the death of me.

_Good thing you're mostly dead already, eh? _Vladimir pointed out.

"Remember what I said about the sexual torment?"

She laughed. "That's not sexual torment. I'll let you know when we've reached sexual torment."

I quirked an eyebrow. "When, eh? Not if?"

"Oh, shut up, virgin," she teased, puffing out her cheeks.

"Did you seriously just mock my innocence?"

Sexy Bitch held out her hand pinching her thumb and index finger close together. "Maybe a little."

I shook my head. People these days. "Well, you're the one wanting me to finger you in the name of science," I said nonchalantly.

She sputtered indignantly, removing my hand from her lap. "I did _not _say that!"

"Say what you want, but I know what you meant," I assured her, purposefully annoying now as I tapped the side of my nose with a wink.

She crossed her arms. "Kiss a guy once and he thinks you want to bang him!"

"I always operate under the assumption that any girl, at any given time, wants to bang me."

She exhaled loudly. "The sad part is that you're probably not far off the mark with that one."

My eyebrows rose – mostly because she was correct as far as my psychic abilities told me. "Oh, really?"

"God, that waitress was so obnoxious. Flirting with _my _date," she grumbled, glaring at the dashboard as if it had done her a personal disservice.

Trying to contain my smug grin, I shrugged. "I didn't really notice." Lies.

"How could you not notice? She was practically offering herself to you."

"I was too busy imagining you not wearing panties in a public restaurant," I said boldly.

She started laughing and grabbed my hand again, replacing it on her leg as if I had re-earned my spot there. "I'll give you credit, Cullen. You know exactly what to say sometimes."

Ironically, I had no response for that as we fell silent, my palm tingling with the nervous energy of physical contact. However, it wasn't too long before our dreaded parting was imminent. Pulling up to the same curb I'd covertly snuck around to when picking up Sexy Bitch, I parked the car and regretfully eyed my travelling companion.

"Well, we're here." Captain Obvious.

"Yeah," she agreed quietly. "I give you permission to ask me out again sometime. As long as it doesn't involve dancing, bowling, or athletic activity in general, that is."

"Fair enough," I grinned. "I don't suppose I'd be able to walk you to your door?"

"No, overprotective father. I'm actually going to Angela's house now to corroborate my lies."

"Oh. Can I walk you to her door then?"

She smiled. "Yes, you may. It's just over th—," she began.

"I know," I interrupted, not impolitely.

"Right. I forget that everyone knows everything about everyone here." Her tone implied that this was in no way a good thing.

Exercising a bit of my vampire speed, I got out of the car and was opening her door before she had a chance to do otherwise. Old habits die hard, I guess. Of her own volition, she took my cold hand and threaded her fingers between them as we walked to Angela Weber's quaint, white home.

"So you're a virgin; you open doors; you pay for meals; you walk me up to the door. Chivalry isn't dead."

_Nope, just plain old undead._

"I'm glad you think so. Some find it to be chauvinistic."

She flapped her free hand dismissively. "Well, call me anti-feminist, but I appreciate a man that can hold open a door."

I mocked tipping the brim of a hat. "Any time." We now stood on the porch outside the front door, ensconced in only the dim lighting of the street lamp. "I know I forced you, but thank you for going out with me tonight."

"You're not as much of a douchebag as I thought, so you're very welcome."

"Wow, ouch." Placing my hand over my heart, I mimed the pain of being stabbed.

Rolling her eyes, she pressed up onto her toes and leaned into me. "Just kiss me."

I didn't need to be told again. Lightly grasping her waist to drag her closer to my body, I kissed a furtive trail from her lips to her throat, gently sucking on her skin as I had done before. It elicited a similarly moaned response that sent a wave of triumph through me. The hickey I'd left on her neck previously was forming a bit darker than I'd intended, but I felt no repentance.

Her hands clawed at my back and hair before a hanging potted plant suddenly shattered to the ground in fragments. "Shit!" she exclaimed, jumping from the wreckage.

I covered her with my body. "The screw must have been loose or something," I muttered, though it didn't matter. Our spell was broken and it was time to say goodbye.

A blushing Sexy Bitch gave me a short wave that I returned. "I had a good time. I'll see you at school. Don't forget my notebook."

"Of course not," I promised. "Goodbye, Isabella."

"Just Bella," she corrected.

"Bella," I repeated. "Beautiful Bella."

With one more chaste peck on the lips, we soon had a wooden door separating us and I turned once more to my Volvo. The walk to the car felt longer than it should have, causing me to look back at the Weber household. Bella. Some connection stronger than the very core of my nature was drawing me back there and I knew exactly where that tie led. Touching my lips, I could still feel her brave, hot tongue.

_You picked a real firecracker there, bud, _I mentally thought at Count Cockula. Though he didn't respond, he didn't need to. Whoever Bella was didn't matter because I was sticking this – whatever _this _was – out to the end.

Looking back once more, I grinned. Bella Swan was going to be the death of me and I didn't care one little bit.

*V*V*V*V*

"Nice job not killing her, mate," Emmett said with a wink as I returned home, genuinely feeling that this was a measure of achievement. I supposed it was, all things considered. It wasn't as if I hadn't entertained the notion. As if holding some kind of vigil, my entire family had congregated in the living room – which was still partially destroyed, for the record. From the mental impressions I got, they'd been crowded together listening to Alice communicate her visions about my date for half the night.

"Thanks," I muttered, already craving escape. I could hear their questions mounting.

"I couldn't see most of it," Alice informed me, partially reassuring and partially irritated. "She never knows what she's going to do before she does it. The only time I knew what was going on was when _you _decided something, but then you changed plans anyway in response to her." It was times like this that Alice's true mastery of the term 'control freak' became apparent in her huffy, petulant disappointment.

"If you're having so much trouble seeing Bella's future, why were you able to see those visions earlier?" I asked, remembering the tangents of reality showing Bella knowing the truth of our existence and – better yet – not running away screaming.

She shrugged casually, though I could hear that she'd been wondering the same thing herself and was more bothered by it than she showed. _Cough. Control freak. Cough, cough_. "I'm not sure."

I'd known Bella was spontaneous, but not to the extent that it blurred Alice's vision and yet still provided long-range predictions. How strange. "While I appreciate your concern," I said in address to the rest of my family, "this relationship is none of your business. This is one thing I have to do by myself." I didn't want my entire family breathing down my neck when I was nervous enough pursuing romance anyway.

"Where the fuck do you get off saying that?" Rose demanded, hands slung across her torso. "This girl is either dead by your hands or undead by your venom if you continue to see her. Either one of those is our business."

I hadn't thought that far in advance – I was still fucking giddy about having been kissed. Sure I had attempted to have sex numerous times, but, in some silly human notion of chastity, had never kissed another person – until Isabella. Did we have to move right into doom and gloom immediately after my first moments of true joy? "This is not up for discussion right now. I haven't decided anything," I hedged. Who said it had to be one or the other? Death or life forever. Why couldn't we find a middle ground?

_Edward, _Carlisle addressed me in his head, _Rosalie is right. You know we're all happy for you, but there are certain ramifications we must plan for._

"Jesus Christ, I've only had my first date with the girl. I'm not discussing turning her into some kind of vampire bride. I might not even want her around for eternity. And more importantly, I would never force anyone into this . . . _lifestyle _if she didn't want it."

"Even if she said she wanted to be turned, she has no idea what it really means, what the consequences are," Rose said a bit softer, her mind a pit filled with children she could never have. Her golden eyes flashed to me. "She deserves a normal life."

"Not everyone's version of normal has to include children," Jasper said gently, infusing the air with some calming effects.

"Don't you dare manipulate my emotions!" Rose hissed, a wild look in her eyes. Having bared the little piece of herself she usually kept under lock and key, in true Rose fashion, she took off running and left the house, making her way into the woods.

"Damn it, Jazz. You know better," Emmett grumbled, clambering off of the sofa and chasing after his wife.

"Well, this isn't going quite to plan," Esme said primly, folding her legs in a show of humanity. Her mind was slightly jumbled between being enraged at the destruction of the home she'd spent time cultivating and being ecstatic that this topic of discussion was even viable.

"Good. I don't want to talk about this anyway." Grimacing at the remaining assemblage, I started towards the stairs. My good mood had rapidly evaporated and I was quickly returning to a pre-Bella angst as everyone piled his or her worries on me.

"Edward," Alice's voice followed me. _Leave her alone or turn her. Just choose quickly. I don't know what it is, but something big is coming._

Haunted by the solemn quality of her words and the implied ominous warning, I finally fled to my room, escaping the rapidly deteriorating "family time".

***V*V*V*V***

**Remind me: What is the last thing you guys read of this story before I pulled it before?**


	12. In Which I Try to Crack Her Codes

**Reviews and updates and A/N's, OH MY!**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

In the peace of my own solitude, I plucked the golden colored contacts out of my eyes and decided to study Bella's notebook before I had to hand it over. What on Earth made it so important to her?

The smell of that single drop of blood, previously so potent to me, was less dizzying as I cracked open the inked pages. Sure, I had the urge to drain a few unwilling donors, but I had a task at hand.

_One step closer to not killing the only piece of ass you'll ever get, _Vladimir encouraged like some kind of anti-cheerleader. _Well, if you get it to begin with._

I ignored him and picked a page at random.

_Tingling. Electricity. A swooping sensation in my stomach, like falling. Adrenaline._

I stared at it a moment, wondering what she was describing. It sounded like something sexual, but my brain was already hanging out in the gutter as per usual. There were bits of poetry on some pages, lists of things to do, journal entries. What struck me most was that some were written in pencil while many were in different colored ink, colored pencils, markers, and even a singular entry of red crayon. It looked as if she grabbed whatever writing utensil she could find whenever the urge to record something struck her, not always regarding the lines as the words were written on a slant or even completely sideways. Passing a few more pages, I tried to form a cohesive pattern, but the content was just as scattered as she was.

However, one page caught my attention. One written in code. It had a list of entries with three letters followed by a six-digit number. I couldn't make sense of it and, for that reason, it made me suspicious. Perhaps the ability to read minds, much as I loathed it sometimes, had made me entirely too accustomed to knowing everything about a person. This girl . . . she was unknown. I wondered if there was some way I could bring it up to Bella without being remembered as the asshole that stole her notebook in the first place.

_You're trying to crack her codes and that's not even a nerdy euphemism, _Vlad muttered.

I sighed. Maybe my inner-voice – stupid fucker that he was half the time – was right. I should emulate teenage boys more thoroughly in a single-minded quest for sex so we could get this whole song and dance over. Maybe one session with Bella would permanently cure me and then I could fuck whomever I pleased. Probably not. But I just didn't know at this point. The whole damn thing was a mystery in so many regards. Some crazy ass human showed up smelling like sin and sexuality and all hell broke loose? Why now? And what were the parameters of my newfound sexual ability? (I use 'ability' loosely given my near death experience the first time around.)

It figured. I had a fantastic night out with a sexy girl and there I was, trying to make sense of the new off-kilter pattern of my life.

_Chicks, bro. They change everything._

_Don't call me bro,_ I irritably told Vladimir.

_I can call you whatever I want. I _am _you, _he pointed out.

Oh, fantastic. Now I was talking to an extension of myself and – worse yet – he was talking back.

"Screw this," I said out loud, not doing much in the way of improving my whole I'm-going-crazy-and-talking-to-myself predicament. I was already sick of my own company and everything in me strained to be back with Bella, to press her against my body, to feel her warm blood flowing like silken ambrosia down my throat. I had to go see her.

But not empty-handed, of course. I would deliver her notebook. Ripping out one of the unused sheets, I quickly wrote her a small address and tucked it behind the front cover for her to find later.

One bonus of being a vampire was the memory thing. It was a rare day that I forgot something when we were gifted with nearly perfect recall. Quickly memorizing the list of codes in Bella's journal, I zipped through the house, grabbing a single calla lily from the dining room centerpiece. (The least used room in the house aside from the kitchen and they were decorating it with fucking flowers.) With one last item, I began running the short distance to Bella's home.

I knew she wasn't technically around given that she had only just gone to Angela Weber's house, but I had a plan that required her to be gone anyway. Her bedroom window was cracked open – all I needed.

Jumping into the tree outside her window as before, I pulled out the roll of pink duct tape I'd stuffed into my pocket and quickly ripped off two strips. Swinging onto the ledge so that I dangled against the siding of the house, I deftly stuck both the lily and the notebook to her window, knowing she would see them before she slept.

Maybe it was foolish, leaving them in such an improbable place, but some part of me wanted her to wonder how I had done it so secretively, maybe even to guess at my true nature. She wouldn't react too badly to it according to what Alice had foreseen – not that she was terribly reliable these days, but one could hope.

Shrugging off from the window, I melted into the woods that dictated the perimeter of the Swans' backyard, lying in wait like the true beast I was. Only, I had no intention of sneaking into her room like the creatures of stories in order to drink her blood. Of course, maybe it was creepier by some standards that I simply wanted to watch her sleep. At least blood drinking was for the fulfillment of some basic physical need. Stalking? That was a whole other bag of fun.

Shaking my head, I slipped into the boughs of a fir tree, reclining and tucking my hands into my hair, alone with my thoughts until she returned to me.

*V*V*V*V*

It was nearly ten when Bella got home, redressed in her black sweat suit with one addition. I watched her from afar, realizing she had my coat flung around her shoulders, that I hadn't bothered to retrieve it. This thrilled me. It would smell like her when I got it back.

My whole body was alert as she unlocked the front door and made her way upstairs while I simultaneously traded trees from one in her backyard to the one outside her window. The Chief had already gone to bed so she met no inquiries, which I was thankful for. I wanted to see her with my own eyes, the anticipation killing me.

It took an eternity (twenty-four seconds) for her to flick on her bedroom light and shut the door closed behind her, finally in view. I felt myself relax. She was beautiful. Surprise flitted across her features as she came to the window, noticing the flower and notebook taped into place along the outside. A moment later she was grinning and chuckling as she stuck an arm out the window and retrieved both items.

She inhaled the scent of the lily and then addressed the item in her other hand, my handwritten note to her slipping out, drifting to the floor. Retrieving it, she turned her back to the window and I strained my neck, longing to see her expression as she read.

_Bella,_

_Your notebook, as promised. Truce?_

I hadn't bothered signing it, knowing she could use her excellent deductive reasoning skills to figure it out.

From behind, I saw her shake her head before setting the notebook and the flower on her nightstand, her fingertips lingering on each, a little smile playing on her lips.

All of a sudden, her grin disappeared and she exhaled a frustrated breath, her hands threaded into her hair as she tugged at her scalp. I watched in fascination.

"Ugh, what are you doing, Swan?" she asked herself out loud. "You should never have led him on. 'You have permission to take me on another date'? Christ." She kicked her bedside table and then swore as she clutched her foot.

Well . . . that kind of sucked.

_She's just not that into you, _Vladimir muttered in my head.

I didn't disagree with him. Maybe she didn't have as good a time as she had said, but why would she kiss me like that if not? Talk about mixed signals.

Hobbling now, she began to undress for bed; she wasn't stripping which I found disappointing, but I still had the benefit of the view of seeing her untie that damn bow on her navy blue dress – something I'd been longing to do. The best part? She wasn't wearing underwear. She hadn't been lying in the restaurant. Just that simple knowledge gave me a new appreciation for her audacity, my mouth pooling with venom. Count Cockula had picked a real winner here, whether she liked me or not.

"Where did I put my damn shorts?" she muttered under her breath, searching through a dresser drawer fruitlessly before crawling to the floor to check under the bed.

I felt a twinge of guilt. I knew where her shorts were – in my pocket. They'd lost their potency by now, though it was still comforting to have some kind of security measure against her scent. Maybe I'd return them. Maybe.

She settled for long pajama pants and a tank top, pulling the elastic band out of her hair and shaking it loose. Glancing in the mirror, I saw her reflected self's mouth gape open.

"Motherfucker!" she hissed, craning her head and running her fingers over the dark oval hickey that was right over her jugular vein.

Oops.

She fumed over it silently before letting out something between a shriek and a groan and switching off the light to crawl underneath her covers. I only saw the top of her head as she furiously pulled the bedspread over her body. It took a while for her to calm down enough to sleep, forcing me to listen to her breaths turn long and even.

It took half an hour before I figured she was deeply enough asleep that I could enter her room. I didn't feel as bad intruding this time; after all, she'd been grinding against me a few hours ago. Taking up what I now considered to be _my_ spot, I perched on the old rocking chair and watched my human forget reality in a state of unconsciousness I had not been able to attain in nearly a century. A strange sense of jealousy overcame me. I hadn't been able to dream for so long, never able to escape the world. That was what I would be taking from her if I were to change her into some damned creature of the night. Not that she would even want to be united with me that way. Sex? Maybe. Eternity? Doubtful. I would have to ponder this development in her feelings towards me, though at this point I wasn't sure what direction to move in. Did I try to woo in the hope that she would forget her misgivings? Or did I try to surreptitiously worm my way into her life?

Of course, such thoughts were brushed aside abruptly.

"Why are there rabbits everywhere?" she demanded in her sleep, her brow furrowed.

I logically knew that she had a habit of nighttime verbalizations, but I still was startled.

"We need cages up in this motherfucker. They're breeding like . . . well, like rabbits."

What the fuck kind of dream was she having?

"Yes, bunny condoms," she muttered, rolling onto her side so her back faced me.

The room fell quiet again and I stared at the slight rise and fall of her shoulder just to make sure she was still alive. It was strange, but with her silent mind, I had the paranoid sensation that I could never be sure of her safety unless witnessing it with my own eyes. I suppose Alice could have predicted anything happening, but she hadn't been exactly useful these past few days.

Frowning to myself in the dark, I watched my sleep talking, stripping, thieving, drinking, book reading, hotdog eating, flirting, non-underwear wearing, and sinfully delicious smelling human rest. She wasn't mine yet, but with a bit of luck and whole lot of Edward Cullen Woo, maybe she would be.

***V*V*V*V***

**I just love the term "Edward Cullen Woo". **


	13. In Which the Girl Rejects the Boy

**I've been on an updating rampage!**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

I was anxious. I'd been waiting all day for this. After sneaking out of her room in the early hours of the morning, the school day had dragged as I waited to see Bella. When lunch ended, I had all but sprinted to biology as my siblings watched with knowing eyes. They were annoying like that, the pretentious fuckers. This was the most entertainment they'd had in years, watching me try to navigate through the sexual territory they had all claimed decades ago. But worse was the fact that all the other students seemed to have noticed, too. Curious thoughts swirled after me with inquiries towards my sudden change in character. These people had never seen me so animated, that was for sure. Was she already changing me so much?

So now I sat in tense anticipation, blinking more than usual around the stupid fucking contacts I had to wear, attempting to prepare calm and collected remarks in my head to reference our date last night, maybe casually remind her of the blazing hot kiss we'd shared. Of course, that all went to shit the moment I saw her.

_Mmm, 'dat scent, _Vlad drawled.

I strangled my groan in my throat and tried to focus. My words promptly forgotten (which was strange altogether given that I was a fucking vampire and generally incapable of forgetting), I sought her eyes instead.

I regretted that immediately. It didn't take a genius to figure out she was on the warpath from the fire in her expression and her determined stalking.

She all but slammed her backpack to the floor like she was Hulk or something, throwing herself into her chair, eyes glued to the front of the room as if ignoring me hard enough would somehow make me disappear.

"Good morning," I asserted cautiously.

"Is it?" she growled, suddenly turning to me as if she was pouncing on my words, an opportunity to unleash some of that anger.

Even as an immortal, nearly indestructible being, I shuddered a bit at her tone. "Or not."

"Look here, Sparky. I get that you think you're hot shit," she hissed before dropping her voice to an angry whisper and leaning closer so as not to be overheard, "but you do not leave a fucking _hickey_ on a girl's neck on a first date. That shit is for pornos."

Wow, I'd seen her angry last night, but she seemed to have gathered steam since then. This led me to employ a classic strategy used by men everywhere when they wanted to go to bed with a beautiful lady: deny, deny, deny.

"I gave you a hickey?" I asked, raising my eyebrows so as to appear surprised, dropping my mouth open just the right amount.

"Yes, you moron," she groaned, closing her eyes.

"I didn't realize there was proper hickey etiquette, first of all. And secondly, I didn't realize I was leaving one," I attempted to say, though she didn't look like she was buying it. I tried a new tactic – softening my voice, I said quietly, "You made that little noise when I sucked on your neck so I did it some more. Beside, I haven't left a hickey on a girl's neck before. I didn't know it would happen so easily." I _so _was not above playing the innocent virgin card and I wasn't technically lying on that last bit either.

Some of her anger diminished, though she still appeared to be mightily irritated. And worse was the grim determination that had me bracing for the inevitable.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore. You got your date. I have my notebook. Let's call it a day."

"What? Because of the hickey? Did you not like it?"

"No, that's not –," she began.

"So you did like it?" I asked quickly.

"Cullen, shut up for like, two seconds," she ordered. "I'm a lightweight when it comes to alcohol, ok? I was buzzed and not thinking clearly when I kissed you or said we could go out again."

I frowned. She hadn't seemed drunk.

"Look," she began when I didn't say anything, "I just moved here. I'm still settling in. I'm too busy for a boyfriend."

_Who said anything about a boyfriend? I'm here for the pussy, _Vladimir unhelpfully added.

Sexy bitch was shutting me down before I'd even had a chance. I should have fucked her in that bookstore. Hell, Moe could have watched for all I cared.

"It's nothing personal. I'm just busy," she repeated, though something about the way her face tightened told me she was lying. I wasn't even entirely sure what gave it away given that I didn't have access to her thoughts and I was rusty with human facial expressions, but I _knew_. Maybe it was her increased pulse – I could hear her heart growing frantic. Perhaps she wasn't busy and was trying to come up with excuses to avoid me. But what had scared her off between then and now?

Suddenly, I was mad, too. I had done everything right – ok, except for that hickey, but I was far from regretting that – and what did I get? Nothing. I'd taken her to a nice restaurant and a store she liked, most importantly managing to not kill her along the way though the good lord knew how easy it would have been. And for fuck's sake, I actually liked this crazy human woman-child.

"Busy with what?" I asked, wanting to call her bluff.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. I was trying to be nice."

"You're blowing me off after only one date which you made a point of telling me you enjoyed – twice. How is that nice?"

Mr. Varner cleared his throat and I realized our whispered argument had been steadily gaining attention. Bella blushed crimson and bit back her retort – which probably contained swear words judging by the look on her face. She scooted her chair as far away from me as the lab table would allow and cracked open her textbook, ignoring me again.

_. . . what they're fighting about – not me . . . bitch. God, I want him, _Mike Newton's obtrusive thoughts told me. Just what I needed. Confused homoerotic tendencies directed my way in the midst of the breakdown of my infantile love life.

Needless to say, it was a long class period between Sexy Bitch's radio silence and stiff posture, Newton's vivid imagination (again with picturing me with a huge ass – why?!), and – joy of joys – Eric Yorkie's nervous energy as he thought about asking Bella to homecoming. Contemplating his murder gave me a few gleeful moments, but otherwise? It sucked ass. We disjointedly looked through a microscope at onion cells, silently taking turns like a divorced couple tolerating each other for the sake of the children.

The moment the bell rang signaling the end of school, Bella took off like a bat out of hell, wanting to avoid me at all costs, I assumed. She left so quickly she even forgot her textbook.

"Bella!" Eric Yorkie called after her retreating figure, cursing when she escaped his intentions.

While I was frustrated, it also denied Eric the chance to proposition her, ultimately saving his life. Ok, I probably wouldn't have killed the motherfucker, but I would have messed with his head if he had the audacity to stake a claim on _my _human.

Not wanting to be second to Yorkie, I, too, gathered my things quickly for the pursuit, finding Bella easy to track given that her scent created an almost tangible path even as it was snagged and disrupted by the milling students. Of course, chasing after her reminded me of the hunt, the compelling quest for blood.

She was just exiting the school and making a mad dash for her car as I caught up.

"Don't be the creep that can't take no for an answer," she groaned when she realized who she had in tow as I trotted up to her.

"I was just trying to give you your textbook back," I lied, though I did indeed have it in my hands, proffering it like an olive branch. "You left without it."

She didn't stop walking as she accepted the offering. "Thank you," she said grudgingly. When I didn't stop keeping pace with her, she asked, "Something else you need?"

_Your great and glorious pussy, _Vlad intoned.

"I just want to know what changed."

"I told you," she groaned, rolling her eyes as we reached the point in the conversation she'd been expecting. She clutched the book to her chest like battle armor. "Yeah, I'm mad about the hickey, but I'm also really busy."

I raised a dubious eyebrow, hearing that telltale beat of her heart, glad to be a human lie detector for once. "I know what you told me. How about the truth now?"

Her expression hardened in annoyance as she ceased walking and distractedly fumbled around in her bag for her keys, having reached her car. "That_ is_ the truth." She turned to the old, red, beaten truck and unlocked the door manually – god, she drove that thing? I wouldn't get a chance to have sex with this girl, not because she said no, but because she would die in a car accident before my opportunity.

I blocked the truck's door obstinately. "I'm not moving until you tell me." Maybe it was childish, but goddamn, what did a guy have to do to get laid in this century? I was at wit's end, desperate for release and some primal part of me was not going to let her lie to my face. This was _my _fucking human and we were going to be honest with each other, damn it. And by "we", I meant her because I was a fucking vampire and you didn't just come out and tell people that shit.

"Are you kidding me right now?" she demanded, eyes glinting in the light. "Are you five?"

I crossed my arms.

_Try five hundred, _Vlad cackled.

"The truth is that I don't even like you. You're an entitled asshole that thinks he can do whatever he wants," she said through clenched teeth, pulse racing. Not entirely off with that statement, though I didn't believe her.

"That's the truth, huh?"

"Yup."

"You don't like me?"

"Nope." She tapped her foot on the asphalt, arms crossed, unintentionally accentuating her breasts. "I was trying to spare your feelings, but I've told you the truth. Now leave me alone."

"Fine, but one more thing."

"Oh, for the love of –," she began to say.

I choked off the rest of her sentence with surprise, grasping her waist and flipping us around so she was pressed against the truck cab, maybe faster than was strictly human. Caging her with my body, I felt each breath, curve, and heartbeat.

In retrospect, it was a fucking creepy ass endeavor. Pinning a girl to her own car and silently staring her down intensely in an effort to convince her to have sex with me . . . not my finest moment. But she didn't scream, didn't move, didn't even blink. Her heart thrummed rapidly as she stared at me, her expression searing and unreadable.

But there it was. That fucking electricity, prickling in my chest, lighting my whole world. Maybe that was why I was doing this juvenile shit like a lovesick puppy. She had to feel it, too. She had to. All this goddamned voodoo couldn't be just me.

Nuzzling my nose against the artery in her neck, I inhaled deeply, scenting her, groaning with both the pain and the ecstasy of the erogenous ambrosia. I hooked one finger into her turtleneck collar and gently tugged, revealing the deep purple mark I'd left, ghosting my lips across it.

She shivered. My nostrils flared. I smelled her. Not her blood, but_ her. _My human was wet.

"Stop touching me. For the love of god, please stop," she said, pressing her spine flat to the metal, the electricity crackling between us reaching a fever pitch. I'd never wanted her more even as she sought distance.

The hands I had shackled against the truck struggled for freedom; I relented.

To my surprise, she slapped me before hopping up and down, clutching her hand. "Ouch!" she hissed, glaring at me accusingly.

I didn't even try to pretend it had hurt.

She held her uninjured hand with an open palm towards me, warding off my presence. "Back the fuck up, Sparky." She had gone from weak in the knees to pissed in a split second. "Who the fuck do you think you are? You don't even know me. You can't go around pushing people against cars like that. Christ, dude." Her face was bright red at this point, candy eyes molten with the anger of her cause. "This is the goddamned sense of entitlement I was talking about."

Well, color me embarrassed. Here I was thinking we were living in a romance novel where normal societal rules didn't apply. Naturally, it didn't escape my attention that she was fucking wet, but I would give her credit about the entitlement shit.

"Hey, Isabella!" Eric Yorkie called as he approached the truck, reminding me that this was indeed a public parking lot. I immediately stepped away, separating our bubbles of space.

_Fuck, Cullen's here. What if he beat me to it? He never wanted anybody, but the moment she shows up, he's all over her? Why does my life suck?_

"Hey, Eric," Bella replied with a bit too much exuberance, obviously relieved by the diversion.

"Everything ok over here?" he asked oh-so-subtly, glancing between our tense body language.

"Yes, of course. Edward was just leaving."

_Like hell I am. _"I'm not in any hurry," I assured her easily, grinning, leaning against her truck like I owned the world. Internally, I was anxious – I knew exactly what Yorkie wanted.

"I actually wanted to talk to Bella privately," he hinted peevishly.

_Over my ashes, asshole. _

_Relax_, Vlad hissed. _Douchebags don't always get the girl, you know._

I held my hands up guilelessly. "I can see when I'm not wanted."

"Can you?" Bella challenged with a raised eyebrow.

Ignoring her, I pressed on. "I'll go. I just wanted to tell you that I really enjoyed last night." Adding a wink and a light slap to her ass for effect, I made a show of leisurely strolling away from the decrepit piece of shit Bella called a truck. She looked scandalized while Yorkie appeared to have deflated as he attempted to continue their conversation. Of course, I could still hear them perfectly.

"Are you dating Cullen?" Yorkie asked glumly.

"No, definitely not. He was just being an asshole."

"That's good," he replied, considerably more cheerful. "In that case, I was wondering if you wanted to go to homecoming with me. I know it's kind of late to ask since it's this weekend, but I figured you might not have been asked yet since you're new."

"Oh," Bella said slowly, "I'd love to, b–," she began.

I never heard what answer followed. A loud mental cry of panic interrupted my focus.

_Fuck! The brakes! Shit!_

***V*V*V*V***

***Dramatic music* **


	14. In Which I Save the Girl's Life

**Hello, all. How are you? I'm told we're officially on new territory for those of you who read this story previously. So, you know, be nice. ;) **

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

Tyler Crowley's van was skidding across the parking lot at an alarmingly quick rate, barreling straight for Sexy Bitch.

I didn't think.

Despite being halfway across the parking lot by this time, I used every bit of speed I possessed, uncaring of who was watching, wedging myself between the oncoming van and Bella's truck. All but flinging Eric Yorkie out of the way to avoid the front bumper, my arms formed a protective cage around the new center of my universe – for one moment, our eyes met, hers wide and confused, before I looked away. Stopping the van with one braced hand, I left a deep, palm-shaped indentation in the metal. There was a sickeningly loud crack and, looking wildly around, I saw Bella had been knocked unconscious from hitting her head on her own truck's firm structure. Fuck.

I didn't dare breathe – her blood was permeating the air and I knew she had less to fear from a van than me if I inhaled. I could feel the searing heat of her life essence staining my hand scarlet where I supported her.

My own panic was prevalent. Despite not breathing to avoid smelling her free flowing blood, the intoxicating sight and heat of it so near to me was making my thoughts scattered and animalistic.

_Edward, get out of there right now! _Alice's mental voice screamed at me.

I hesitated, staring at the unconscious, precious body I cradled. No one else was allowed to touch her or protect her. Only me.

_Stop being a caveman, _Vlad chimed impatiently.

_Now, damn it! _ _Before you're seen! _Alice yelled.

I growled low in my throat with frustration before ripping myself away, releasing her as gently as I could before loping away from the site of impact, burying my stained hand in my pocket.

There was a silent moment for one beat of Bella's frantic heart before the screaming started.

Everybody rushed to the scene, some already on their cell phones to call for an ambulance. They flapped their hands, distraught, over Yorkie's broken arm, attempting to get closer to the juncture of the vehicles to see more and assess the damage. I approached the cars like any other concerned bystander, internally warning myself to not get too close due to the lure of her blood.

_Go home, hunt, and then meet her at the hospital, _Alice advised, though there was no doubt that it was an order.

I didn't question her – there was no point – though I felt I was leaving a physical part of me behind, like sawing off my right arm with the promise of it being reattached sooner or later.

_You'll see her soon enough, _I told myself, attempting to soothe my inner beast.

Without attracting a second look given the commotion, I made my exit into the forest, sparing one last glance for the place where I knew Isabella to be, though she was hidden by the large crowd now congregated around the red truck.

Pulling my bloody hand out of my pocket, I stared at the scarlet that still glistened there, pondering it with the proper religious devotion it deserved. Picking up speed, I disappeared among the trees, giving myself over to the instincts thrashing around inside me, darting my tongue out to taste the forbidden.

*V*V*V*V*

There were definite perks to being the son of Forks' favorite physician. That had never been more evident as I bypassed the anxious faces of Forks High School lining the waiting room. Nearly the whole school seemed to be crowding in the small area, holding some kind of vigil for their poor fallen new girl. While some mental impressions were genuinely concerned, most wanted to be the first to know if she had died.

I growled in disgust, but no one heard. Citing an urgent need to see Carlisle, I walked right into the hospital's heart, scenting my way to find Isabella. It wasn't difficult; her blood was even easier to track now that I'd had the trace amount I'd licked from my own hand – which was fucking delicious and better than I'd ever imagined, for the record. The poor deer I'd ripped apart with my bare hands had tasted like sewage by comparison, but I had needed to quell my thirst. After hunting, changing my bloodied clothes, and getting a new pair of contacts, I was prepared.

Carlisle was already in her room, pressing his fingers to her skull. I was relieved to see that she was awake and looking distinctly disgruntled, but the sight of another vampire with his hands on my human brought forth an ugly emotion in me. Her blood, however minute, still coursed inside me, strengthening the voodoo magic vibe between us.

"You seem to have some swelling around your occipital bone. Is your vision normal?" he asked as he released her.

"Oh, hello, Edward." He pretended to be surprised to see me though he'd heard my approach.

I didn't respond, my eyes too full of my human, examining every visible inch to assess damage. Why were they so fucking fragile? "Are you ok?" I demanded, my voice made harsh by my own fear for her wellbeing.

"Who the hell let him in?" she groaned, rolling her eyes up to Carlisle pleadingly.

"Still your usual charming self, I see," I said, relieved that she was alert enough to be irritable.

"How did you get in here?"

I pulled the nearby chair out and seated myself. "It helps when you have an in with the staff," I pointed out, jerking my head at Carlisle.

She could have been watching an intense Ping Pong match for the way her eyes repeatedly jumped back and forth between Carlisle and me, narrowing with each pass. "Adoptive Daddy Cullen?" she guessed shrewdly, directing the question at me. Always tactful, that one.

I chuckled, at ease now. "Most people just call him Carlisle, but yes."

"I figured." She mumbled something under her breath that sounded like "too goddamn pretty".

Carlisle, who was being remarkably slow on the uptake, realized that the girl he was attending was in fact _my _girl. Seriously? How many fucking Isabella Swans were there in a town this small? His eyes widened at me meaningfully.

_Are you sure you can be around her? The bandages are on, but still._

I nodded my head nearly imperceptibly, far too full with my recent hunting expedition to seriously consider killing her today. Plus, the girl had nearly died. I was shaken.

"Well, I'd like to monitor you for another few hours to make sure everything is normal, and if it goes well, we'll discharge you after that," Carlisle said in that authoritative, trustworthy voice, swishing his hair. "I have to see my other patients, but I'm sure Edward can keep you company." With a wink, he departed as Isabella's protests went unheard.

_Go get her, _Carlisle thought at me encouragingly, which could have been seriously misconstrued considering we were vampires.

In the absence of alternative company, Isabella's eyes fell to me, her arms crossed and expression sour.

"What?"

"I know it was you."

"Excuse me?" I felt distinctly nervous, playing dumb. I had been hoping she had lost consciousness before seeing me.

Her eyes were menacing. "Don't even try, Sparky."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said coolly. "I'm just glad you're ok."

"Look, fucker, I'm not stupid. I saw you." It was plain to see her absolute, unshakable certainty and I wondered how I was supposed to get out of this one. "You stopped a fucking van, for god's sake!" she hissed, her heart rate monitor beeping erratically as she worked herself up.

"Calm down, Swan. I think you hit your head a bit too hard." My voice was cold, struggling to discredit any claims she might make. What if she told someone? Rose would kill me if we had to move again. I would just declare she'd been hallucinating or something.

Her mouth dropped open in indignation. "My head is perfectly fine."

"Well, if you're so sure that for some completely inexplicable reason I was able to stop a moving vehicle with my bare hands while sustaining no discernible injury despite being halfway across the parking lot, then you really should be thanking me for saving your life." I folded my hands behind my head smugly, huffing out an unnecessary breath even as my voice dripped with sarcasm.

This brought her up short. "I . . . yeah. Thanks, I guess." Her glowering expression petered out to one of embarrassment.

I nodded in approval. "Not that I did any of that, but you're welcome. Now, how are you feeling?" I was brusque, business-like.

"I just want to get out of here. I'm fine." She seemed to drop the subject of my supernatural state with grace, though the determined set of her little chin told me she wasn't forgetting any time soon.

"Half the school is out in the waiting room, you know." _Distract 'em, Cullen. Works every time._

"Oh, I know," she said darkly. "Thank god there are visitation limits." She stuck her tongue out at me given that I was violating said limitations.

"Where's your father? If he's as overprotective as you say he is, I'm surprised he's not at your bedside."

"He was waiting for me at the hospital before I'd even been loaded into the ambulance," she said with a roll of her eyes, though the little tug of her mouth told me she was secretly pleased. "He left a few minutes ago after he was sure I wasn't dying."

I nodded, the Chief going up in my estimation. "So, what did Yorkie want?"

"Hello, topic change," Isabella chimed. "And I don't think that's any of your business."

"Well, word got around that he was going to ask you out to the Homecoming dance," I lied casually.

"And you what? Wanted to stake your claim? Well, sorry, but he's the third person to ask, and I'm _not going_."

My jaw nearly dropped. I was relieved that she wouldn't be going with him, but come on. Third? Who the fuck had gotten through my defenses? I'd been parted from her for a few hours and people were already moving in like they could sense her availability dwindling. "Who asked you?" I demanded, teeth grinding.

She crossed her arms, the IV tube pierced into her hand getting tangled up. "It doesn't matter."

"Well, why aren't you going?" I asked, trying another approach. If I was honest, I briefly entertained visions of us twirling around an old timey dance hall, staring deeply into each other's eyes. These imaginings, of course, were second to my detailed mental depictions of drawing and quartering any of Isabella's would-be suitors.

"I don't dance. All of this," – she gestured down the length of her body and back up again – "is not coordinated enough to move to a beat."

"You? Uncoordinated? No way," I said sarcastically, remembering her grand entrance into my life as she fell flat on her pretty face.

"Hardy har har." She dramatically placed a hand over her eyes, blocking me from view.

"Well, if you're not going dancing, would you like to go with me somewhere more exciting?" I swear to the Lord God Almighty, that I didn't plan for that to come out of my mouth, but there it was, another date offer despite her rejection earlier today.

"Back to this, huh?" she hedged, non-committal, peeking at me from underneath her hand. "Look, just because I almost died doesn't mean I'm suddenly desperate enough –," she began.

Interrupting what was surely bound to be a full blown tirade, a nurse appeared. "How are you feeling, honey?" Without pausing for an answer, Nurse Betty (I read her nametag) continued on, smiling at me. "I'm kicking up your morphine a bit. Doctor's orders. He said you hit your head pretty hard."

"It's not that bad," Sexy Bitch huffed, leaning back into her pillows as the drugs flowed directly into her bloodstream. I briefly scented the air, detecting a metallic taint in her usually sweet blood. It was a welcome reprieve from the typically intoxicating smell, though part of me was wistful in noting its absence.

"Hey, how's Tyler doing?" Bella asked Nurse Betty, a note of true concern lacing her voice.

"The Crowley kid? Oh, he's fine. I'm not legally allowed to tell you this, but it was just some whiplash," she said in a conspiratorial whisper.

"And Eric Yorkie?"

"Sprained wrist. Everyone is fine. I'd say you had a guardian angel looking out for you," Nurse Betty declared before continuing on her merry way, smiling at me again on her path to the door. _Such a sweet, supportive boyfriend,_ she thought.

Bella sighed and mumbled under her breath, "Guardian angel, entitled pretty boy, same thing really."

"So you think I'm pretty?" I asked confidently, fluttering my eyelashes.

"Not as pretty as _you _think you are," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Are you really going to stay here and annoy me until they release me? Don't you have homework or shit to do?" Her tone was wheedling.

"Isabella Swan, _you _are my shit."

She feigned happy tears, fanning her face dramatically. "That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me!"

"Now, now, no need for sarcasm, Ms. Swan."

"Tell you what, if you want to actually be helpful, Cullen, get me some food. Like, real food." Her chocolate gaze was earnest.

"Pick your poison," I said with a small wave of my hand.

"Deep dish cheese pizza from Mario's," she said decisively, unembarrassed about asking for favors.

I bowed. "As you wish." Outside food was a hospital no-no, but I was hoping my place as the son of Forks' favorite doctor would be enough to allow it.

"Did you just 'Princess Bride' me?" she demanded of my turned back.

I glanced over my shoulder and gave her an Oscar-worthy Cheshire grin before departing.

*V*V*V*V*

**Don't you just love Wesley?**


	15. In Which I Am Threatened with Bullets

**Good god, another update already? I must be awesome. (I am.)**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

Mario's, as it turned out, was a twenty-five minute drive outside of Forks into the neighboring town and of course she chose the one menu item that takes half an hour to forty-five minutes to cook. While part of me wanted to believe that maybe she just really liked this specific deep dish pizza, I was more easily convinced that she simply wanted me gone for as long as possible. This wasn't a huge surprise to me given her recent campaign on the "I'm-Too-Busy-To-Date-You" train, but it still hurt my tender vampire feelings.

By the time I had waited for the damn pizza, made the damn drive back, and finally waded past the damn visiting reception area (only Angela Weber and Mike Newton remained in their vigil and didn't even notice me whistle past them), nearly two damn hours had gone by. When I did get to Bella's room, clutching the pizza box like a grim token of victory, I found her sound asleep . . . and Chief Charles Swan reclined in the very seat I had left vacant.

His eyes, brown likes his daughter's, were eerily shrewd as he gave me the requisite "I'm-a-dad-and-I-don't-like-the-look-of-you" onceover. With his muted brainwaves, I wasn't quite sure what impression I made, though I'm sure I looked ridiculous with my deflated expression at having found Isabella unreceptive to my cheesy delivery.

"Cullen kid, huh?" Chief Swan said gruffly.

I nodded. "Yes, sir. Edward Cullen." With manners dredged up from a previous century, I extended my hand towards him, my palm warm for once from the borrowed heat of the pizza box.

"Is that for Bella?" he asked, jerking his chin at the cardboard container.

"Yes,sir. She asked me to bring her food before she fell asleep," I said politely. For some reason, I was distinctly nervous in the face of this mortal man.

His eyes narrowed and I could hear him wondering about my attachment to his little girl if I was fetching her pizza. "Mario's deep dish?" he guessed, looking at the box's logo.

I nodded.

"That's her favorite," he said with some approval, relaxing, figuring that Bella must have specifically requested this. "So how do you know my daughter, Edward?"

"We have class together," I said carefully. _And we might be mated for eternity, but I mostly just want to fuck and drain her._

The Chief wasn't buying that shit. "You wouldn't happen to drive a silver Volvo now, would you?"

Oh, shit. This was bad. This was so bad. With growing apprehension, I answered, "Yes, sir. I do."

"Well, then," he muttered, face inscrutable as his hand gripped the butt of the gun slung around his waist. "The next time you take my daughter on a date, I expect you to come to the front door like a man." The great Chief Swan must have seen her get into my car last night. My face registered shock at having been caught like this without being aware because his next words were, "I see everything. Especially where my daughter is concerned. Never forget that."

"Yes, sir." I didn't mention that I was unlikely to have any more dates with his daughter.

"And Cullen?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If I ever see a hickey on my daughter again, I will personally acquaint you with my bullet collection."

"Daddy?" Isabella's soft voice asked. She blinked her bleary eyes, taking in the scene before her, brow quickly furrowing. I looked at her more carefully, and saw that, without the coverage of her turtleneck from earlier, the hospital gown did indeed reveal the hickey under a lock of her hair.

"I'm here, Bells," Chief Swan cooed, going to her bedside and forgetting our little conversation entirely.

"Sparky?" she asked over his shoulder.

"Accounted for," I affirmed.

"Pizza?"

"Still hot." I cracked open the lid and handed her the whole box with little plastic utensils. The effusive smell of melted cheese immediately invaded the air, slightly nauseating to my vampiric digestive system.

She moaned in anticipation and Count Cockula, quiet for some time now, responded to the sound wholeheartedly, making my duct tape cummerbund crackle with the strain. Thankfully, no one heard it, our focus on Isabella as she dug into her first slice.

There was something highly erotic in watching her use her human lips and tongue and teeth, even as she tackled the food like a ravenous huntress. Or rather, it would have been highly erotic if Chief Swan was not shooting me disapproving looks every few bites for encroaching on their family time. But, fuck, I was invested in this woman-child. And I'd bought the damn pizza. Planting my feet a bit more firmly, I raised my head a few degrees, determined to keep my ground and be there for her on the off chance that she wanted me.

She was two bites into her third piece before she sighed contentedly and patted her tummy. "God, I'm going to marry Mario. This pizza is the shit."

Chief Swan laughed. "I think his wife might have something to say about that."

Just then, Carlisle made a grand entrance, flipping his hair as he swept over to examine Isabella's vital signs. "Though I wish it was under better circumstances, it's nice to see you, Chief Swan."

"Dr. Cullen," Chief Swan said gruffly, his mental signature one of respect. "How's the little twerp doing?" Isabella rolled her eyes at this endearment.

"Everything looks normal. I'm signing her discharge papers right now," he said, withdrawing a few sheets from his clipboard with a flourish. "Now, Isabella –,"

A ringing interrupted Carlisle's speech.

Chief Swan swore. "That's my work phone. I have to go, honey. I'll send Jake to come pick you up and take you home."

"I'll take her home," I found myself saying. "I'm right here, no need to call someone in." Especially not some mysterious fellow named Jake. Who the fuck was Jake?

Chief Swan raised his thick eyebrows at me as if taking time to mentally reestablish my character. "Bells, is that ok with you?"

To her credit, she didn't even hesitate. "Yeah, that's fine, Dad. Edward will make sure I'm safe." I thought that was a ridiculous lie, though she didn't know that, of course.

The Chief nodded and stared me down for a few charged seconds. "You just remember what I said, Edward." He conspicuously caressed his gun again.

"I'll never forget, sir," I promised solemnly, which was certainly true. Not that I could have even if I wanted to. I mean, vampires were like elephants, not forgetting one single fucking thing.

Seemingly satisfied, Charles Swan charged out of the hospital on some urgent business, leaving Carlisle, Isabella, and me in the hospital room, an uncomfortable little trio.

"Isabella, some dizziness and headaches will be normal for the first few days, but if it continues past that, I want you to come right back to the emergency room, ok?" Carlisle said, handing her the discharge papers and removing her IV.

"Will do, Doc. Am I free to go now?"

"You are free to go," he confirmed with a smile. "Just take it easy for a few days. I gave you a note for school as well." Exiting the room, the man I thought of as my father left me with a wink again, thinking encouraging thoughts all while hoping I wouldn't kill Isabella on the ride home.

Isabella's eyes fell to me as we were yet again alone, a little smear of pizza sauce in the corner of her mouth. That miniscule bit of red had me reimagining Alice's vision, picturing Isabella as a member of the undead with the need to sustain herself like the rest of us, still glorious but somehow alien as she downed her first kill, a streak of blood at her lips.

"Ok, turn around so I can get changed out of this gown."

"Your shirt is stained with blood, though," I pointed out, looking at the rumpled clothes on the counter as I shook myself out of my ponderings.

"I'm just wearing it for the trip home. It doesn't matter," she muttered, reaching for the turtleneck she'd worn earlier.

"You try to walk out of here with bloodstains and you'll look like an escaped patient. Here, take mine," I offered, already having unbuttoned my shirt and removed the plain white t-shirt underneath. Thankfully, my duct tape was low enough to be covered by my pants, leaving my pale chest to its own pasty white glory.

"Jesus Christ, not shy about taking your clothes off, are you?" she choked out as I stood shirtless before her. Her candy eyes were wide as saucers, heartbeat skipping wildly.

"You must bring out my inner stripper," I teased her, more languidly addressing the re-buttoning of my over-shirt as I scented her arousal in the tense air between us. And this girl said she didn't like me. Harrumph.

Handing her the white t-shirt, she mutely accepted as I faced the opposite wall to give her some privacy, though I would have given up my entire music collection to turn around and drink in her nearly naked form.

After a few moments' rustling, she announced, "Ok, I'm decent."

I decided immediately that she should always wear my clothing because "decent" was the most innocent descriptor I would assign her. The t-shirt, too large for her, swum around her figure except to accentuate her breasts and protruding hips. Not to mention I could see her bra's outline underneath it. Breathtaking. Plus, she was still delightfully, sinfully pink from blushing over my shirtless display – I was staring at my nirvana.

"You could make a killing off your looks. Well, not your 'looks' as in your physical features, but the _way _you look at people. I mean, your physical features are great, don't get me wrong, but the _looks_, dude. Women would pay for that shit," she rambled.

"What do you mean?" I asked, enthralled at her fuddled commentary.

"Like, if you could be paid to sit next to mirrors while women got ready in the morning or when they're trying on clothes and, I don't know, _smolder _at them a bit, they'd all have much higher self-esteem. You could make a lot of money."

"Please define smolder for me." Amused, I was definitely amused.

"The whole 'I-will-carnally-devour-you' expression thing you've got going on. That's smoldering. You were just smoldering at me," she informed me, blushing again despite her bold words.

_Houston, we have mixed signals,_ Vlad groaned.

"Only at you, Isabella, only at you," I murmured, too quietly for her to hear.

"Sorry, am I being weird? I'm always really fucked up on pain medications." She began to put on her shoes and nearly fell over, corroborating the drug hysteria, though she clucked impatiently when I tried to tie her shoes for her, flapping her hands.

"Come on, let's get you home before you hurt yourself and your father blames me," I said forebodingly, ushering us towards the door and into the parking lot with a rapidly darkening sky.

"I'm sorry about my dad. He can be a bit much sometimes, but it comes from a good place." She paused and bit her lip. "What did he say to you?"

"He knows that I took you on a date last night. He saw my car."

"Well, shit," she sighed. "Sorry. I hope he wasn't too awful."

Choosing not to mention the 'bullet collection' comment, I said, "No, just looking out for his daughter. I can't fault him for that." I fished around in my pocket for the car keys, opening the door for Isabella.

As we were both seated in the enclosed space with twilight upon us, our eyes met for a moment and she let out of a big burst of air like she'd been storing it up to explode at that moment. "Ok, look, I'm sorry I was a bitch and didn't want to date you more, but I told myself it was just going to be that one date to get my notebook back. And then you're so goddamned pretty and I really like you and that scares me and I have all this baggage and shit and it's just better to not date ever – especially since you're entitled and a thief and I can literally feel my brain cells melt during the smoldering, but you got me pizza and you're driving me home and you bought a book and you saved my life and I like how you kiss me and I just – ugh." She finally came to screeching halt, staring at me and breathing more heavily than before, her hands knotted in her hair like she was about to pull it out of her scalp.

I was in shock. "That was, um, quite the torrent of information there."

"It's the drugs." She threw her head back against the headrest dramatically, covering her face with her hands before crying out. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, rubbing the back of her skull, though the thick gauze pad blocked that attempt.

I couldn't help but chuckle. She was a danger even to herself, let alone careening vans.

"Goddamn it, don't laugh at my pain, Cullen!"

This, of course, made me laugh harder until she cracked and laughed, too, both of us losing it over the ridiculousness of the situation. And we hadn't even left the parking lot yet.

"Ok, ok," I said, sobering. "Am I to understand that you do indeed like me?"

She nodded swiftly, biting her lip in an unwittingly sexy way. "I'm just . . . scared."

"Then give me a chance. Don't be scared. I can handle baggage. I can handle it so well I should work at an airport," I pleaded, knowing in my heart that she should be beyond scared. She should be absolutely petrified, but I couldn't tell her that. Not yet.

She tittered a bit and then yawned, suddenly tired. "You're funny. I like that, too."

"Come with me during homecoming. You don't have to go to the dance. We'll have our own party."

"Ok," she agreed softly, reclining the seatback.

I grinned ear to ear. "Really?"

"Really, really."

Thank fucking god for that. I'd get another shot at this dating thing. I wanted to high-five myself.

"But I have to ask you something first."

Oh, shit. That was never a good sign. I spoke too soon.

"All right."

Her voice lowered as if someone might be listening in. "You really did stop that van today, didn't you? I didn't hit my head too hard. That was you, right?"

I should have said no, protected my identity as well as those of my family, but I knew this was a test. I couldn't read her mind, but she wanted to see if I would be honest. A challenge had been issued and I bit the bullet – I thought of Chief Swan involuntarily – because there was a potential reality where she knew of my true nature – and maybe this was the road there.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Ok," she breathed, not looking frightened or disgusted or shocked. Just thoughtful. "Then thank you. For real. For saving my life."

The weight on my still heart lessened and I knew I didn't have to warn her to keep this information to herself. "You're welcome. I'd do it again any second of any day."

"Well, you better not have to or I'm going to be suing the mechanics around this place. Faulty brakes, my ass," she joked lamely. She cleared her throat. "Some hell of a Monday, huh?"

I laughed. Some hell of a Monday, indeed.

With the lightened mood, I started the car and began the journey to her home. As soon as we left the hospital's parking lot, Isabella took my hand from the steering wheel and placed it on her lap as she had before, though denim jeans now obstructed her creamy skin.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," she said randomly.

"About?"

"About not liking you. I do. I really do." She stroked the back of my hand to emphasize this.

"I like you, too." I ever so gently squeezed her thigh, careful not to bruise her with the hands I knew to be capable of murder.

_What a fucking chipper thought, _Vlad muttered.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something as well?"

"I suppose that's fair."

"Have you ever had sex?" This was a question that I'd been trying not to ponder too much given how in tune she seemed with her own body and sexuality, but I needed to know. It was time.

She bit her lip, hiding a smile. "Once. I was 15 and it was so fantastically awful. Like, seriously, _so_ bad." She chuckled ruefully. "For the twelve seconds that it lasted – and I'm not exaggerating, it was twelve seconds – it was painful and mortifying. His cat was in the room," she recalled. "And that fucking animal stared at me the whole fucking time, making eye contact like it his was job." She shook her head in disgust.

Well, not a virgin, but it wasn't like her universe had aligned either. I figured the damage could have been worse given her goddess-like features. I had her with _me _now.

Ok, at least that's what I was trying to tell myself, willing myself towards calm. Mostly, I wanted to find this asshole and castrate him with my bare hands to make myself feel better about having miss that window of opportunity, for having the gall to touch my Sexy Bitch without even making it good for her.

"Sorry if that was too much information. You probably didn't want to know that. But after that experience, I would say I'm a virgin in all but the physical definition." Hmm, if she was so inexperienced, where did all the 'baggage' come from?

"And you were teasing _me_ for being inexperienced," I snorted, trying to forget my inner rage monster. Still, I could track him down. I would only need a name – no! No! Calm, I was being calm.

She squeezed my hand and I turned to look. Her eyes were focused directly on me, deadly serious. "Not for long."

I think I nearly drove the car off the road, choking on venom as I attempted to formulate something more than a desperate groan. "Bella, y-you know I don't _expect _that of you or anything, right?" I asked, endeavoring to be gentlemanly despite the many highly sexual thoughts I'd harbored for this girl. I'd thought those things, but I knew, in the heart that used to beat to the tune of a different century, that I never would have been able to force her.

_Expect that? You fucking pussy. You should demand it!_ Vlad said in outrage.

"There's a shocker, Mr. Entitlement," she teased.

I wondered if she knew how dead on she was for the primal part of my personality, the piece of me that just wanted her body to sate my desire whether she consented or not. But somewhere along the way, I'd developed a goddamn conscience.

_Or you got greedy, _Vlad suggested.

_What do you mean? _

_Now you want both her body _and _her heart, _he replied sagely.

I did. I wanted her to want it, to want _me_.

_Most pussy ass bullshit I've ever seen, _Vlad grumbled, less wise than two seconds ago.

_Oh, shut up._

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"I was just kidding, you know. About the entitlement thing. Well, at least about feeling entitled to _that_."

"I know."

"Oh, ok. You went totally silent and had a dead-eyed expression," she pointed out.

"Sorry, I was thinking."

"About what?"

"That we might be approaching sexual torment," I lied, smiling at her. "I mean, you're putting these crazy ideas in my head."

"Like they weren't already there," she scoffed. "I know you want a piece of this." Gesturing up and down her body, she wiggled her hips in her seat.

I burst out laughing. "Oh my god, I am going to force feed you drugs every fucking day."

"Ooh, Sparky is swearing," she taunted.

"Fffffffuck," I said emphatically, drawing out the _fff_ noise.

Sexy Bitch raised an eyebrow at me. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" There was a beat of silence and her eyes widened impossibly. "Holy shit, I'm so sorry. I forgot about your parents. Goddamn, I suck so hardcore."

"Whoa, whoa, it's ok. They died when I was young. Esme is my mother," I reassured her quickly. "Don't beat yourself up about it."

"I swear to god, my filter is just gone. Like, I barely have one anyway and with pain killers . . . whoosh." She made a skating motion over the top of her head, squeezing my hand.

"It's ok. I like knowing what you're thinking," I said honestly.

She shook her head, her eyes pin wheeling in their sockets. "It's crazy up here. You don't even want to know."

"Yes, I do."

My tone must have must more serious than I sought because she turned her face to me, searching earnestly. "Why?"

I said simply, "Because you're different from anyone I've ever met." And it was true. Aside from the fact that my body had never responded to anyone this way in all my years alive, there was her startling honesty, her unabashed sexuality, her blazing intensity.

"You are, too," she admitted. I had no doubt about that.

Despite the intimate mood of the car, we were now parked outside her house, the porch lights illuminating Isabella in a yellowish glow, signaling the end our adventure.

"I'll see you this weekend if you're feeling better by then," I reminded her, getting out of the car to escort her to the porch like a gentleman. Using a bit of my vampire speed, I whirled around to her side and opened the door for her. "Be careful getting out. I don't want you to hit your head again."

"Hit my head," she scoffed. "You're the one that knocked me down to the pavement in the first place."

I rolled my eyes. "Use your knowledge for good, not evil."

She laughed, taking my hand as she unstrapped herself from the seat. And suddenly she was standing, enveloped against my chest, arms strung around my neck. She sighed into my collarbone.

Unsure what to do, I put my hands around her waist, careful not to put any pressure on her delicate body even as I tensed at the concentrated scent assaulting my nose. It was different like this, with her body heat pressed into me, not just nearby, but physically present.

She pulled back and shuffled her weight. "Do you want to come inside?" Her eyes were unembarrassed despite the blush coloring her face and chest.

Now, I would take this time to express that I had lived for over one hundred years, had seen wars pass, dictators rise and fall, thousands upon thousands die, and new ideologies sweep the world. For all that life experience, that invitation had effectively turned me back into the teenage boy I had been all those years ago. There was not a moment of hesitation before I nodded dumbly.

***V*V*V*V***

**Do you think he's going to get some?****  
****Also, for those of you concerned that Bella was being a super bitch towards Edward, I wonder what you'll think of her later.**


	16. In Which I Get to Second Base

**I love reading your reviews for this. They make me so happy. Some of you are terribly perceptive. ;)**

***V*V*V*V***

Locking my car, I followed after Isabella like a lost puppy, curious to be inside her room on an actual invitation this time. She flicked on a few lights as she went, silently glancing at me over her shoulder, offering a shy smile, and ascending the stairs.

"Um, do you want anything to eat or drink?" she offered, pausing on the fourth step.

God, if she only knew. For just a moment, everything inside me that was beastly imagined knocking her to the floor, pinning her down to drain every last drop of her sweet life. We were alone in this tiny yellow house. It would be easy. "No." My voice sounded rougher than usual.

There must have been something wrong with my face or stance because she stared at me with open curiosity before shaking her head and continuing upstairs. I followed behind, mentally cautioning myself. I should never have tasted her blood after the accident. Concretely knowing how delicious she was . . . fuck, rookie move.

"So, this is my room," she said unnecessarily, pushing open a white door to the left.

I stepped forward, examining everything as if it was my first time there. To my pleasure, I saw the calla lily I'd left for her sitting in a vase on her nightstand, the copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ lying open next to it.

"I like it," I informed her.

"That's what all the boys say," she joked.

"You've been here for like, a week, and you already have a whole host of admirers," I scoffed, only half-joking.

Sweeping back her hair, she sat on her bed. "That's such a lie."

"Ok, Ms. I've-Been-Asked-To-Go-To-Homecoming-Three-Times."

"That was out of pity."

"Bullshit," I called unflinchingly.

"How would you know?"

I almost blurted out_ because I'm a fucking telepath_, but thankfully still possessed some modicum of control. "I'm a guy. I know this shit."

She rolled her eyes instead of responding. "Oh, I accidentally stole your coat, by the way." Pointing behind me, she directed my attention to my jacket, lying across the back of her desk chair.

"And my shirt, too," I pointed out, trying not to stare at her magnificent breasts, but failing. Yes, boob gaze activated. Day-um.

"I seem to be amassing pieces of your wardrobe," she observed, tucking her chin against her chest to look down at the simple white cotton. "You can sit down, you know."

As I began to sit at the desk chair, she patted the bed next to her and I almost felt sick to my stomach with anticipation, a sensation unfamiliar to my vampiric life. With this new development, I felt I might be able to initiate a make out session. That was what teenagers did on beds when they were home alone, wasn't it?

Struggling to maintain a human pace, I sat beside her, winding my arm around her shoulders. All of a sudden she laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"I just thought of how many girls would literally kill me if they found out I had _the _Edward Cullen in my bedroom and I'd gotten his shirt off earlier." She chuckled to herself.

I wanted to disagree with her, but I had indeed read the minds of the female population of Forks and knew she was telling the truth. "They still would not be as pissed as the guys that have asked you to the dance if they found out I'm in _the _Isabella Swan's bedroom."

"Wow, what star-crossed lovers we are," she joked.

"Whoa, whoa, who said anything about lovers? I'm just here for the casual sex."

She smacked my bicep and then groaned. "Goddamn it. I keep forgetting that you're made of fucking stone." She paused, then eyed me slyly. "I guess I could say that you're _rock hard_."

I could barely believe she went there, but then again, this girl practically pole danced her way to bedtime. My eyes crinkled as I laughed so hard that the bed shook. If I could have cried, tears would have been streaming down my face because this woman – this _girl_ – was flirting with me and it was surreal and she had no fucking clue how rock hard I was in every sense of the word. "Oh, you have _no _idea."

Then that little minx put her hand in my lap, feeling my erection intently.

That shut me right the fuck up.

"I think I have a pretty good idea, actually."

Holy shit. This woman – ok, not girl – was a sex goddess. And I was so painfully, terribly out of my depth.

I swallowed down the excess venom pooling in my mouth, trying to figure out what to do with my hands. They felt leaden, making me hyperaware of where to place them – I settled for putting them behind me on the bed, supporting my weight and not pushing any boundaries.

From Isabella's point of view, it must have been a bizarre scene as I stared at her with wide, anxious eyes, not daring to breath. She withdrew her hand and stifled a laugh.

"You look like you're about to pass out," she giggled, ultimately failing at not humiliating me altogether.

I pouted. "I was surprised. You can't just spring that on me."

She burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. "Oh my god, get it? _Spring that on me_?"

I rolled my eyes, more relaxed now that we were teasing again, though still mortified that I hadn't capitalized on her boldness. "Well, I think that's my cue to go since you are clearly high on drugs." Which she totally fucking was.

_What the fuck, man?! Are you fucking crazy?! You're leaving now?! She wants the D, damn it, _Vlad screamed in my head. _Give her the goddamn D!_

I tried to rationalize my actions. It wasn't right. She was drugged right now and some part of me wanted everything to be perfect when we actually did have sex (I was a total girl, I know). Plus, I still wasn't sure I wouldn't kill her after a blood and semen fountain erupted from my body. Surely this wasn't the right time to make a move. Plus, I was a tiny, teensy, weensy, little, itty bit scared after glorifying sex for so long – what if it was awful? What if I was another twelve-second wonder?

_You're running, you pansy. Fucking pansy, _Vlad groaned.

"I didn't mean to scare you. You don't have to leave. We can just talk for a bit if you want." Her voice was contrite and she looked like a young girl instead of a sex goddess.

"You didn't scare me away. But your father might if he catches me in your room."

"Actually, that's a good point. Go move your car and then come back. You can just sneak out the window when he gets here."

I looked at her like she was crazy, though it was true that the depth of her deviousness was just now hitting me. "You know your room is on the second floor, right?" I tried to make that my reasoning, though part of me knew that I needed no more incentive to stay here alone with her. The danger was stronger if no human knew I was here, if I could get away with killing her.

She raised her eyebrows skeptically. "Are you telling me that you stopped a van this afternoon, but a second story window is going to hurt you?"

I took a deep breath, her scent burning me as always. "Bella, you don't understand. It's . . . it's not safe for me to be alone with you like that." God, how could I explain this without sounding like a complete creep?

She huffed out a breath. "Edward, look, I know you're not . . . _normal_, ok? But you're not going to hurt me."

For some reason, I had to make her understand, make her fear me and my monstrous potential. And maybe, just maybe, she could look past that. I would not force myself on her if not, but she deserved to make some kind of informed decision.

"Oh, yeah? You said yourself that it was my fault I hit your head."

"That was an accident while you _saved _my life."

"Isabella, I could _kill _you. So easily." There it was. The truth. I guess I expected her to gasp in surprise, to demand I leave her room, to declare that she never wanted to see me again. But this was Isabella fucking Swan. She rolled her eyes.

"Now you're just being dramatic. I don't know what the fuck is going on with you, but I know you can't kill me."

"Can't I?" I asked, flipping her onto her back at top speed, hovering over her as I held her neck in place to keep her from hitting her newly wounded head.

Her eyes widened and I could smell the tinge of adrenaline in her blood. "So, you're fast, strong, and cold. Anything else I should know about?" Her voice was infuriatingly calm despite her body's reaction.

I sighed in resignation, dropping my head down to nuzzle her collarbone. "No, not tonight."

"But there is more," she noted.

"Much more," I confirmed, pressing a kiss to her skin, repentant now.

"Another day, then."

"May I ask _you _something?"

She nodded.

"Why _was _that notebook so important?"

"It . . . it has important things in it," she said vaguely.

I raised an eyebrow and she shook her head.

"Another day, then," I repeated her.

"Why did you steal it?"

I smiled despite myself. "Another day."

She laughed and her hands moved to wind in my hair, caressing my scalp.

A noise halfway between a groan and moan escaped my throat involuntary and my pelvis pressed down to meet her, my erection throbbing and present between us. I had already forgotten what the hell we were talking about.

_What were you saying about this being morally wrong because she's on drugs? _Vlad intoned, peeved now.

_I'm not going to have sex with her. I'm just going to . . . enjoy myself._

_Right. Yeah. Ok. Good moral middle ground there . . . jackass._

"Oh, I should give your shirt back to you before I forget," Isabella said, saccharine. She began to shimmy, lifting the t-shirt over her head nimbly and tossing it to the floor.

"Jesus Christ, woman," I groaned, staring down at the impressive sight beneath me. Her luscious breasts, wrapped in that blue bra, called to me.

"Kiss me."

That one, I could do. Dipping my head, I met her eager lips, hot against mine. Her hands twined in my hair, moaning wantonly, hips pressing against me. Once again, her tongue poked at me insistently and I ducked to her neck, kissing the hickey there, unwilling to find out the results of her ingesting my venom.

"I want to be on top," she informed me, bossy as ever.

I flipped us over at vampire speed, setting her astride my hips, grinning.

She smiled. "Man, that could have its perks."

I laughed at this insane girl, unwilling to feel fear – or perhaps incapable – and only focusing on the positives.

She rolled her hips against me and we both groaned at this new sensation. Leaning down to kiss me, her hands were everywhere, her breasts pressed into my chest, her hot stomach warming me, her hips ruling me.

And it was too much. I could feel her pulse, every beat of her frantic heart, the staggering heat prominent between her thighs. I was going to fucking kill her. I was going to bite that juicy neck, luxuriate in the warmth liquid, finally sate my —

Before a millisecond had passed, I had dislodged her and crossed to the corner of her room, as far away as I could get, nostrils flared. I blinked once and felt my contact lenses dissolve altogether, my semi-demonic eyes on display just as my inner beast was rearing its ugly head.

Isabella's own eyes were wide, her mouth swollen. She stared at me, waiting for an explanation, studying my face with surprised scrutiny, probably thinking I was a fucking lunatic.

Of course, Alice chose that moment to call me, probably knowing exactly what she was doing.

_Ooh-oh, girls just wanna' have fu-uhn!_

I cursed before answering.

"Hello?"

"I'm tired of being your warning system for doing stupid shit with Bella. Chief Swan is going to be home in two minutes." She hung up.

"Goddamn it," I said even though she couldn't hear me. "Bella, I need to go. Your dad is going to be home in two minutes."

"How do you know that? He usually works until late."

"I'll tell you later. I have to go right now. I'll come back later."

"Wait, what just–?"

"Later," I insisted, brushing a kiss across her cheek before jumping out the window.

I hopped into my car and peeled out of the driveway like a celibate action movie hero, speeding off into the night, running away from her father and his bullet collection just as much as I was running away from the lure of her blood.

'_Running away from her pussy' is more like it, _Vlad hissed.

***V*V*V*V***

**Ok, so he ALMOST got some. **


	17. In Which I Attack a Bush

**Just your fanfic fairy updating, business as usual. Sorrynotsorry for cockblocking.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

Alice was waiting for me in the driveway, arms crossed. _Such an asshole, getting into all these dumbass situations because he doesn't have any self-control._

"Like you had such great self-control when you met Jasper," I said from my car as I pulled into the garage, knowing she could hear me.

"Jasper wasn't a human," she retorted. "I swear to god, if you ruin my friendship with her, I won't talk to you for thirty years."

"You haven't even met her yet!"

"But I will! And we're going to be good friends."

"I don't give a fuck about that, Alice! All I care about is trying not to kill this girl because I'm probably in fucking love with her and I pose the single greatest threat to her life, so fuck you if you think this has anything to do with you!" I roared, slamming the car door shut behind me, prepared to face off.

"Eddie's in luuuuuurrrrve," Emmett sang mockingly from somewhere inside the upper level of the house.

"Don't be such an adolescent, Edward," Alice continued, ignoring the interruption. "This girl is going to be a part of all of our lives, not just yours."

_Isabella Swan blinks open her eyes, shockingly red, her skin unnaturally pale and flawless. She is a new vampire, flexing her hands in front of her face, eyes flicking around the room haphazardly where each member of the Cullen family awaits her._

I growled, pulling myself out of the vision. "No, Alice. I'm not going to do that to her."

"It's going to happen eventually," she snarled, before collecting herself and sighing. "Listen, I realized why my visions about her have been so varied. All of the short term visions change rapidly because she changes her mind all the time, but the long term? That's set, Edward. She's your mate."

"And what about the other future? The one where I kill her?" I demanded, not allowing myself to react to her confidence. Part of me wanted to rejoice in that cemented bond, knowing that Isabella truly was mine, at least in the future. However, nothing came for free.

Alice was immediately on the defensive, trying to distract herself with some Korean sign language, but it wasn't enough to hide the flash of the horrific scene I received.

_Isabella is pale, but not like a vampire. Her skin is waxy, contrasting sharply with the scarlet blood from the wound at her neck. She lies dead in her own kitchen._

"Fuck, Alice!" I groaned, tortured by the second vision she had tried to hide. "You can't just proclaim shit like that and not show any regard for what might happen if I try to pursue the first option."

"Why do you think I keep intervening when you need it? It's to prevent that from happening!"

"Even you aren't all-knowing, Ali," I sighed, deflated now. "I know what I'm doing is putting her in danger and I'm probably going to do it anyway, but don't try to make light of it. She could die."

Rosalie's face appeared out of a window overlooking the front of the house. "Hey, fucktard, just leave the girl the fuck alone. How about that? She won't die _and _I won't have to hear about it. Alice, stop encouraging him."

"Rosie, stay out of this, baby. If Eddie wants to bang her, he should at least get to try," Emmett boomed.

Jasper's voice sounded from behind the house where he was probably caring for his geraniums, carrying to our vampire ears. "Seconded."

"This isn't about just sex. This is about true love," Esme said from the living room.

"There's something interesting going on there biologically, actually. Something beyond the normal definitive confines of love," Carlisle said casually from his office. The dirty bastard was probably looking at more Catholic themed porn.

This was the thing about trying to have a conversation in a house full of vampires. Nothing was private and everybody had two fucking cents of wisdom to share.

I threw my hands up and tugged on my hair, desiring nothing more than to scream at my own house and all the occupants inside. But, I was Edward fucking Cullen and had much more self-control than that.

Instead, I gripped a nearby hunk of shrubbery and ripped it from its roots, shredding it into something that could have passed for salad, letting out a Hulk roar as I dominated the poor flora. Yup, so much fucking self-control.

"Oooooh, Jazzy is going to be pissed," Rosalie sang, watching from her window like some kind of bitchy Rapunzel.

"Did you just attack my bush?!" Jasper growled, breaking away from the usually calm exterior he possessed.

"Ha, you said bush," Emmett laughed. "I'll bet he's going to attack someone else's bush tonight."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, fuckwads," I groaned. Christ, could I never get a moment's peace? I wanted to go back to Bella's house, away from the insanity. Well, away from one kind of insanity to a different kind altogether.

"That's enough, everyone," Carlisle said calmly. "Edward's been through quite an ordeal."

_I hope you're more polite when the Denali clan comes to visit,_ Alice thought, pursing her lips.

My head jerked in her direction. "What?"

"You've been bitching at everyone so much that you didn't give me a chance to tell you. They decided to visit from Alaska. They're arriving soon."

"What the –? _Why_?" I demanded. This was _so_ not what I needed right now.

Alice shrugged. "No idea. I just know that they're coming and bringing three guests."

Sighing, I thought of my last run-in with Tanya. She had become increasingly more forward in her propositioning to the point that I, frustrated and embarrassed, had tossed a freshly massacred elk at her and took off running mid-hunting expedition. Not my finest moment, I knew.

"I don't want them anywhere near Bella." This was probably overkill (get it?) considering that the Denali coven was the only group aside from us that abstained from human blood, but I didn't want to take chances. I'd never felt this sense of possessiveness before, but I wasn't about to ignore my instincts – even if I was able to.

"They're bound to be curious. I can smell Bella all over you," Alice noted. I knew it was true because I burned despite our distance, but I was still pleased, knowing that my scent, undetectable to her, was similarly all over her hair and skin and clothes. "Besides, it's their friends that you should worry about. They're not vegetarians."

"Fuck," I hissed, protective mode engaged. "No hunting within one-hundred miles of Forks. When are they getting here?"

"In an hour."

"I'm going back to Bella's house to protect her."

"Nothing will happen to her, Edward," Alice assured me, which I could see was true.

"You're right. It won't." Despite my plan to wait until the Chief was asleep, I found myself running back towards the center of my universe, prepared to protect her at all costs – except from myself, apparently.

*V*V*V*V*

In what I now thought of as _my spot_, I perched in the large fir tree outside of Bella's window, shamelessly peering in. She was wearing my white t-shirt again since I had left it on her floor, mindlessly twirling her hair around her fingers as she typed and clicked at her ancient computer. I wondered what she was doing, unable to see the monitor since her body blocked it. She paused, taking a moment to write something down in the very notebook I had stolen. The lines of thin musculature in her back looked tense somehow, her head dipped over her work, the white bandage at the base of her skull stark against her dark hair.

Getting a brilliant idea, I pulled out my phone.

_Please open your window. – E_

I heard her phone vibrate and she startled, picking up the device to stare at the screen. I could tell the exact moment she read the message because she whirled around in her chair, standing abruptly. She came to the window and looked below at the darkened lawn as if expecting to find me with pebbles in hand.

Knowing she already was aware that I was _odd_, I figured I'd push my luck and edged forward from the branch I occupied, waving a bit to capture her attention, grinning. I knew my white skin glowed slightly in the dark, reflecting the light from her open window – I must have looked like a ghost, my face extending out from the shadows.

She gasped and took an automatic step back. The expression on her face seemed blank with the exception of the wide-eyed chocolate stare that never left my face. That was, of course, before she became angry, leaning as far out of the window as she dared, cheeks flushed.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?!" she hissed as quietly as she could manage while she seethed.

"Hey, this was your idea," I reminded her.

"This wasn't exactly what I meant," she grumbled.

Tensing the muscles in my body, I coiled before springing through her open window, landing neatly on my feet mere inches from her. Watching her wearily, I wondered if I'd officially shocked her too much today.

However, she shook her head. "Let me guess. Another day?" I laughed before she clapped a hand over my mouth. "Hey, shut it. My dad is still awake."

I nodded, properly contrite, though I didn't want her to move her hand. The warmth of her soft, delicate skin . . . lovely. I felt the tingle of electricity that always flowed between us moving slowly across my cheekbones, along my jaw, down my neck, and I shuddered ever so lightly.

"Sorry for scaring you," I apologized.

"It's fine. I just . . . I forgot that you're a mutant."

"Mutant?" I chuckled, though I saw she was watching my reaction carefully.

"Ok, not mutant," she murmured as if checking something off her list.

"Are you . . . trying to _guess_?" What an absurd human. _My _absurd human.

"Would you tell me if I guessed right?"

I pursed my lips, silent.

"I'm not going to run away screaming, you know," she told me in a whisper, her head angled up to stare into my eyes.

I was the one shaking my head now. "You'd be crazy not to."

"Look," she breathed, "I don't know you that well, but I feel like I will at some point. At least give me the chance to choose."

I considered this. Wasn't this the whole point? To let her in on the big secret so she could choose freely? Part of me whimpered in fear, unwilling to sacrifice whatever semi-relationship we already had. But then again, she was not an average girl by any means and Alice had foreseen her being accepting of my . . . _condition._

"This weekend," I promised in a low voice, struck with inspiration. "I'll tell you everything."

"Why not now?"

I quirked my mouth. "Some of the . . . _things _that I need to show you require less of an audience."

She chewed on her lip for a while, thinking this through. "Ok," she agreed more confidently, that spark of fire from before still present. "So for now, I am going to be purposefully ignorant towards the fact that you are something more than an entitled teenage boy?"

I smiled. "Blissfully so."

"In that case, you're an entitled teenage boy in my room at night without parental permission. I'd say this was a booty call," she teased.

I wished, though the rational part of me was frowning. "Somehow, I think head trauma disqualifies you from sexual activity at the moment." She did not seem to have any regard for her own safety.

I expected her to laugh, but she muttered, "Not like you'd touch me anyway."

"Excuse me?"

She sighed. "It's fine. I know you're a virgin and you got nervous because I came on so strong earlier, but I promise I'll be good now. The drugs are wearing off now anyway so I'm not quite so crazy. Unless you don't want me at all. . . ," she trailed off, her gaze falling to the floor as she blushed.

Perhaps she was not as self-possessed as her fiery exterior made her appear.

However, I wanted to laugh that this was what she seemed put out about. Grinning, I pulled her into my embrace gently, pressing a chaste kiss to her jaw. "Isabella Swan, now I know you're crazy." The notion that I didn't want her? Ridiculous. Every cell of my body (sperm cells in particular, god help me) yearned in her direction. "I want you just as much as any normal entitled teenage boy . . . actually, that's a lie," I admitted. "Definitely more. I want you more than that." I had over a hundred years of desire etched into every action around this girl.

I heard her heart beat faster.

"Then why did you go into panic mode before?"

My mouth opened and I floundered. "It . . . it isn't in your best interest." And maybe that was the moment that I realized I truly did love this girl. Nothing short of love could have swayed my unflinching desire to have sex with her. For even now, when I might have had a fighting chance, I hesitated for fear of her safety. What if I hurt her? Killed her? The thought seemed intolerable; not see her blush creep up her nearly transparent skin anymore? No.

She raised an eyebrow, waiting for a more elaborate answer.

"I might hurt you."

She sighed. "Back to this again?"

"You'll see," I said darkly.

"No, no, we're pretending we're totally normal right now, ok? Let's just . . . talk."

"Talk?" I asked skeptically, before smirking and straightening up into a formal position. "How about this weather we're having?"

She glared, smacking me with a pillow. I could have dodged her, of course, but I figured it would make her feel better if I let it happen. Of course, given that it was _her _pillow, it was like being smacked in the face with a ball of fire given how mouthwateringly delicious it smelled. "That's not what I meant. How about twenty questions?"

I grinned. "Is that your first question?" _You sly fox, you._

"Is that yours?" she said defiantly.

"Touché. Ask me anything. I may not answer, but I will not lie to you," I vowed.

"Fair enough. I'll start out easy. What's your favorite food?"

My lips twitched as I fought my smile. If only she knew. "Next."

"What? Seriously? That was easy!"

"Shhh, Isabella," I warned as her voice grew in volume, hoping her father had not heard. "Next," I repeated.

She huffed a breath, hugging the pillow she had smacked me with close to her chest. "Favorite movie?"

"_Bambi_," I responded casually. I loved that little fucking deer, feeling a twinge of regret over killing that one in the clearing.

Her eyes lit up with amusement. "_B-Bambi_?" she tittered. "Why?"

"Because Bambi is fucking adorable, that's why."

She rolled her eyes, smiling now. "Easy there, Sparky. What's your favorite smell?"

God, she had a knack for trouble. "Next," I repeated, though my teeth were gritted just thinking about the answer.

"Come on, Cullen. Work with me here." Despite her cajoling, I could see she was genuinely mystified by my clamminess.

"Don't I get to ask you some questions as well?" I evaded.

"Well . . . yeah, I guess."

"What is _your _favorite food? And smell, too."

"Lasagna. The authentic Italian shit, not the kind you throw in the oven from a cardboard box. And my favorite smell is freesia."

I made a mental note of this and continued on. "When is your birthday?"

"September 13th. You?"

"June 20th." Without missing a beat, I asked, "Why do you call your father Charlie?"

"I grew up with my mother. I didn't see my dad very often except during summer. I guess it's just a habit because she always called him Charlie, too." Her hand tentatively reached out towards mine, stroking my cold, granite skin. "Do you miss your parents?"

"In a vague way," I murmured. "I don't remember them very well, so it's harder to mourn. But Carlisle and Esme . . . they're wonderful. I'm lucky to have them. What about you? Do you miss your mom since you're living so far away from her now?"

"This is going to sound awful, but not really. I love her dearly, but she was always . . . she's kind of like a kid. When I lived with her, I was the adult more often than not. It's kind of a relief to not have the responsibility anymore."

"I can imagine." Our hands were laced together now as we sat next to each other on her bed, marveling at the difference in our skin temperatures.

"I'm sure you won't answer this one, but screw it. Why are you so damn freezing?" She was half-teasing, though there were goose bumps along the flesh of her arm.

I debated before finally exhaling, staring her down as I carefully said my next words. "I don't have a pulse."

"You literally don't have a pulse?" she repeated doubtfully. "Or is that figurative?"

I pressed her palm flat to my chest, willing her to feel – or rather not feel. She held her hand there for a moment before her fingers sought the space at my neck right below my jaw. This lasted longer before she went to my wrist, pressing her fingers into what should have been a pulsing vessel. The whole time, her eyes were trained on mine as I stared calmly back, though her expression morphed from skepticism to disbelief to wide-eyed uncertainty.

Her face paled and she swallowed. "Ok," she breathed. "So you don't have a pulse. I guess there are worse things."

"I've shocked you," I observed.

"I'm fine . . . surprised, but fine. I guess it's just weird to have concrete proof that I've kissed a zombie." She peeked up at me.

I shook my head.

"Not a zombie either? Huh." She paused and went for a casual tone despite her voice still being shaky. "Why do your eyes change color? They're kind of reddish now."

I swore internally. I had forgotten to replace my contacts earlier, swiftly looking away from her as if that would undo the damage of my earlier human blood binge. "Let's stick to safer questions," I suggested wearily. "You'll have plenty of time to be 'surprised' later."

She cleared her throat and seemed to compose herself. "I'm not scared. Truly. I'm pretty happy actually."

"I don't believe you."

"You literally can't hurt me," she insisted, rolling her eyes and punching her pillow.

"Yes, I can! How on Earth can you say that when you have a bandage on your head? When I literally had your blood on my hands earlier today?" I wanted to shake her, to make her feel fear. It would be better if she was afraid of me, if she ran.

"I'm serious about –," she argued.

"So am I," I hissed.

Her eyes blazed. "You're not the only one with secrets, Edward Cullen."

While I doubted she had any secrets even close to comparable to the depth of mine, there was something in her expression, something in the magnified wave of electricity between us that convinced me the skeletons in her closet were unorthodox as well.

"Well, I guess that makes us quite the pair, doesn't it?"

She snorted. "We'll certainly find out."

"These secrets of yours . . . ," I prodded, curious now. Had she killed somebody? I wouldn't even be surprised at that one. Whatever it was, was this the baggage she had mentioned earlier?

A brief, bitter smirk flitted across her features. "Another day."

***V*V*V*V***

**You're playing Twenty Questions with a mysterious Edward Cullen. What do you ask him? The person with the best answer gets the next chapter three hours early. I will be accepting answers until the 13th at 6:00 pm, central time. (God, I feel so official.)**


	18. In Which I Am Interrogated

**Hello, everybody! Thanks for everybody that participated in my little "contest".**

**The winner:**

**viola1701e**

**I will be using that question in an upcoming chapter. Hope you all enjoy.**

**Love,**

**MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

I only left her side once to (literally) run to a 24/7 florist and order a large bouquet of freesias, replacing the calla lily on her bedside table. I figured it couldn't hurt to be cheesy and give in to one of the oldest notions of romance. Besides, the surprisingly fragrant flowers covered some of her overpowering scent.

While I could have engaged in our Q & A session all night, my human was understandably exhausted from the day's events – near death experiences and a considerable amount of drugs could do that to someone – and fell asleep not long after her semi-confession. We chatted a bit longer about inane things (she kept up an impression of Thumper from _Bambi _for a good twenty minutes which resulted in a further half hour of teasing and declarations of Isabella's obviously stoned status.) Unsure what to do with myself, I sprawled alongside her sleeping form, watching her drift through unconsciousness as the room grew swiftly darker and then lighter once more.

As six o'clock marched closer, I realized that she might be uncomfortable if I was still here when she woke up and decided to go home – with the additional purpose of scenting the guests the Denali coven had brought with them.

But, of course, I had to leave a note first.

This led me to her desk where I saw the notebook she'd been scribbling in before I'd jumped through her window. Unable to help myself, I scanned the page.

_Pale_

_Cold_

_Eyes change color – gold, black, red_

_Super strength_

_Fast_

Below this list of attributes, she had written a name and circled it numerous times. _Jake._

I frowned upon encountering this name for the second time tonight, wondering who he was to her. Attempting to ignore my twinge of jealousy, I tore out a blank piece of paper and left a brief note.

_You fell asleep and I had to get home. I will visit you after school if that's all right. Don't forget to take your pain medication._

_- Edward_

_P.S. You look so beautiful when you're dreaming. _

_P.P. S. Did you know you talk in your sleep?_

I hoped this was sufficient and not too creepy (I couldn't resist mentioning her sleep talking when she had been murmuring my name all night), leaving it on her nightstand next to the large floral arrangement before jumping out of her window again to meet some vampires that were potentially more dangerous to her than I was.

*V*V*V*V*

"Ah, Edward, we were wondering where you went," Carmen trilled as she embraced me, her dark Spanish hair flowing around her. Our living room was uncharacteristically full of the undead with my arrival making fifteen of us, pale bodies – with the exception of one of the newcomers – dispersed along the equally pale furniture.

"Just running some errands," I replied breezily. "It's a pleasure as always to see your family, Carmen. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Irina, seated in between Kate and – lord help me – Tanya, spoke up. "These are our new friends. Laurent, James, and Victoria." She gestured to a vampire of African American descent with long dreads trailing down his shoulders, a shockingly average looking blonde male, and a female with strikingly red, curly hair that had large, catlike eyes. "They found our family and were interested in the strength of our bonds as well as our diet. It seemed only fitting that they should be brought to meet our good friends here."

I read her thoughts as she spoke, seeing the possessive, adoring tone of her mind. She liked Laurent and hoped he would adhere to this new diet, optimistic that seeing others in this lifestyle would cement his decision to stay in Alaska, to stay with _her_. However, she did not think James and Victoria were as capable of abstaining.

I inhaled, scenting the familiar signatures of my own family as well as those of our "cousins". The three new scents of our visitors smelled wilder with fresh earth, pines, and, unmistakably, human blood.

"Seeing as you have not yet decided to give up human blood, I ask that you give Forks a wide berth," I said directly to our guests, willing my face to be impassive, yet unquestionably firm as I met each set of red eyes in turn.

"I see that you yourself have not stuck to this animal diet," James, the blonde one, noted as he took in my red-tinted eyes (more amber and not nearly so bright compared to his), some note of triumph in his voice as if this proved it could not be done. "I can smell a delicious human all over you."

"Donated blood," Carlisle spoke up while my jaw clamped shut. "No humans died or were injured in the process."

I was undeterred, though silently cursing my stupidity. I should have showered and burned my clothes so they would have no scent of Isabella to tempt them. "I still ask you to avoid hunting in this area. Your word?"

"Of course," Jame said in a lilting voice, dipping his head, "you have my word. None of our coven shall hunt in Forks. I have already been warned you would be most displeased if we hunted amongst your humans." There was a bit of mockery hidden in his polite vow.

My eyes narrowed, wondering who had spilled the beans. Emmett's thoughts were smothered in shame as he avoided my eyes. I made a mental note to rip off his other arm because the fat oaf couldn't keep his damn mouth shut.

"Well, just one, I hear," Tanya giggled, though jealousy snagged at her thoughts. "You must tell us about your pet, Edward. From the smell of you, your 'errands' must have involved her."

I could hear the thoughts of the three new vampires, questioning and curious over the idea of 'keeping' a human when they viewed them more as livestock, like occasionally snuggling with a pilfered cow from McDonald's. They wondered if I kept her alive in order to feed on her repeatedly.

The emotions roiling under my cool exterior bubbled dangerously. "She is not a _pet_," I nearly snarled, angered doubly by the fact that I had once – briefly – envisioned keeping her chained up like they thought, an object of sex and blood and nothing more, all wrapped up in a uniform that resembled Prince Leia's slave girl bikini. I was revolted by myself.

"Now, Tanya, you are hardly one to judge for enjoying the pleasure of human company," Eleazar chided warningly. We all knew of the blonde trifecta's affinity for ensnaring men's attention and desire. Tanya, Kate, and Irina had bedded many human males in their long lives. I did not pry too far into those experiences, imagining one Kegel would kill the human participant by ripping his dick off. I shuddered.

Tanya held up her hands, placating. "I meant nothing by it. I am curious as to what manner of creature has bewitched dear Edward." I didn't trust her antiquated, flowery speech at all – not when I could hear the mental dialogue behind it.

"Well, I'm afraid you will have to remain curious," I replied. "She doesn't know what I am and I don't think it would be wise to introduce her to more members of the damned."

"You don't have to introduce me. I could just take a peek and –," Tanya began.

I growled, dropping into a predatory stance.

"Edward!" Esme cried. "Where on Earth are your manners?"

Feeling a bit ashamed for snapping at our company as ripples of disapproval from my family washed over me, I straightened up, staring at nothing in particular. "My apologies," I said formally. "I am very . . . _protective_ of her."

"I can see that," Tanya muttered, displeased and affronted.

I looked at her for the first time this morning, _truly _looked. Of course, Tanya was beautiful, her features molded into golden ratios and symmetric distributions that pleased humans and allured to vampires alike in our sexual desires. I found her attractive with her perfect curls and curves, had even daydreamed about fucking her when I was feeling particularly masochistic. The first day of meeting Isabella, with all its miracles, had given me a strong desire to run straight to Alaska and rip off Tanya's clothes without even uttering hello, frolicking about in the snow until I felt she was thoroughly apologetic for torturing me the past few decades. There had even been a period of time where, even after the realization that my erection was the exclusive property of a blushing human, I hoped I could concoct a way to bypass that restriction, to find some way to score vampire pussy with Tanya's being at the top of the list.

So, now, with her sitting in front of me, unchanged, still curly and curvy, I was surprised. I knew that even if I wanted to, my dick would not have cooperated in a mission to have sex with her. But that was exactly why I was surprised.

I didn't want to.

Tanya had not changed, but I had.

In the negligible number of days I'd known Isabella Swan and the even smaller handful of hours I'd spent with her, I felt how wholly she had altered my life and its course. It would have been easy to grow resentful of her sole claim on my dick after my initial exultation at its mere resurrection. But that had not happened. Instead, I was bewitched and utterly besotted by a human girl that revived some of my humanity in turn. I guessed that was what love did to a person.

_Love? _Vladimir asked, more pensive than usual.

_Yes. Definitely love._

_Well, good luck with that, you sorry bastard._ Good old Vlad.

All this introspection occurred over two seconds. To everyone else – except Jasper who marveled at my mood change – it only appeared that I stared at Tanya wordlessly for a moment.

Carmen filled the silence, saying, "I am pleased you have found a mate at last, Edward."

I didn't bother correcting her, nodding my thanks instead. She was a mate in nearly every way that counted.

"How do you not drain her?" Laurent queried, genuinely curious. He had never heard of such a relationship before. Neither had I, for that matter, but I could not go back now.

My face was wry. "With no small amount of patience and self-control."

"It is a shame you have claimed her. She smells appetizing," James said, meaning this as a compliment as he picked up the scent from my clothes, though there was true regret in his thoughts as his throat prickled with thirst.

I nearly growled again, but stared at him, declining to answer, hoping he felt the weighty threat in my silence.

"But, of course, we would never dream of harming the girl," Laurent assured me, reminding James in equal measure.

"You don't drink from her? Ever?" Tanya clarified skeptically. I could see her reasoning. She didn't know I was now apparently capable of sexual function – the one thing Emmett _had _kept silent about – and figured my main purpose for keeping a human around was for her blood – I had red eyes after all. Surely that meant that this human had willingly donated for me and that I was blatantly lying to their faces. What other possible lure could there be otherwise?

I listened to her mental deductions with growing satisfaction. God, I was going to have fun bursting her bubble. Without my attraction for Tanya clouding my perception, I could see that her actions in the past had been cruel. Now wasn't the time to delve into that conversation, but I would relish the moment later.

"No, I do not drink from her. Ever." I didn't mention the one time I had licked her blood off my hand, figuring it didn't count in the sense that Tanya meant.

I heard her ask the question she didn't say out loud. _Why her?_

"Because I enjoy talking to her."

Tanya snorted.

My eyes narrowed, though I kept my tone light and airy. "Of course, I'm sure that the humans you frequently enjoy rarely _talk_." Then, before the conversation could devolve further into thinly veiled insults, I said, "And now, if you'll pardon me, I have to get ready for school." This was undoubtedly a poorly concealed excuse, though it was not a lie. The sun had risen and was steadily climbing into the clouds.

"School?" James repeated as if this was a foreign word.

"We find it is easier to be a part of a community if they attend school," Carlisle explained. "It earns us more trust."

The small coven seemed truly shocked by this notion, that immortal beings would willingly immerse themselves in humanity without the benefit of eating them. I suppose at times I was shocked, too to find myself with immense strength, mental ability, and beauty only to be hiding in a normal American high school, though the process seemed more normal every time I went through it. Except now, of course, I had something worth pretending for.

*V*V*V*V*

As it turned out, with an additional eight vampires in my home, I was the only one that actually attended school as if it was any other normal Tuesday. Everyone else felt the need to keep an eye on our thirstier guests. I supposed I should have stayed home as well, but I honestly could not stand the tension of being in the same room as Tanya while trying not to snap over the hungry thoughts of the new trio.

So, flying solo, I drove to Forks High, scanning the parking lot for Isabella's god awful truck just in case she had decided she felt much better. It wasn't there, of course. However, her absence merely exacerbated the content of the gossip mill.

It shouldn't have been a surprise that in a town as small as Forks a near death experience was the number one topic of interest, but the accompanying mental flood of concern and curiosity and rumors was exhaustive. Nobody paid attention in classes, focusing instead on "the accident". None of this was helped by the fact that several kids were called out of their classes through the course of the day to be interrogated by the police. And, naturally, 'the police' in Forks meant Charlie Swan. It wasn't surprising, really. Though I doubted this would have garnered much of his attention otherwise, the fact remained that his daughter had been involved and he was going to leave no stone unturned.

I had barely begun third period when I was called down, as I suspected I would be. Ignoring the stares of my classmates, I grabbed my backpack and walked down to the main office, detecting the Chief's blurry brain – it felt expectant.

He sat in the counselor's office, having temporarily commandeered it, though it looked too cramped for him, as if he might burst out of the space. "Cullen," he greeted me tersely, badge glinting.

I nodded back at him. "Sir."

"I assume you know why you're here," he began officiously.

I certainly did, though I was appropriately weary. It would not be good at all if anyone else found out the extent of my strength. For one panicked moment, I wondered if Bella had told him, but quickly dismissed the thought. She wouldn't.

"I believe so. This is about yesterday, isn't it?"

He nodded.

"How's Bella doing today?" I asked him anxiously before the questioning began. I had only seen her several hours prior, but I worried.

"She's fine. A bit loopy, but better. As her father, I appreciate you driving her home last night."

"Of course."

"Now, as the Chief of police, I have to tell you that we're examining yesterday's incident as a potential crime scene."

My eyebrow rose. "You think Tyler Crowley tried to hit Eric and Bella on purpose?" I, as a telepath, knew this wasn't true. I had heard Crowley's blind panic when he realized his brakes didn't work. There was no way it had been intentional.

"No, I do not think that. The reason Tyler's brakes didn't work was because they were purposefully cut," the Chief said grimly. "This is now an investigation of a terrible prank at best and an attempted homicide at worst."

Holy shit. I didn't have to fake the shock that rippled across my face. "I didn't see anyone tampering with his van," I said thoughtfully, baffled. Who would have done such a thing? And why? Christ, this was Forks, not Detroit. The most trouble people got into was when they went cow tipping or starting driving drunk. This was a perfectly innocent town . . . well, except for the second largest vampire coven in the world . . . and a neighboring group of locals that exploded into furballs every now and then . . . and the occasional roaming non-vegetarian vampire or two . . . and apparently some kind of arsonist . . . damn.

The Chief flipped through a notebook with barely legible shorthand covering the pages. "Eric Yorkie says you were talking to Bella before the accident, that you were arguing." Though he was playing the part of impartial cop, his eyes narrowed slightly. Surely this investigation was a conflict of interest, though we had a limited availability of police officers in Forks and he would have had a hand in this case no matter what.

"We weren't arguing," I disagreed calmly. "Just talking."

"Mmhmm," he mumbled with an air of paternal disbelief. "By all means, please give your account of those events."

"Bella forgot her textbook after school and I ran out to the parking lot to give it to her. We were talking for a bit when Eric –," I began.

"What did you discuss?"

Though I sincerely questioned the relevancy of that query, I answered honestly, "She was telling me the reasons that she didn't like me."

The Chief barked out a laugh despite himself, writing in his little notebook as his moustache twitched in amusement. "Sorry. Continue."

"Then Eric Yorkie came over and asked to speak to Bella alone. I started to walk away and that was when the van came out of nowhere," I finished.

"And you were away from the van and the truck by this time?" The question itself sounded like he was just asking for confirmation, but I heard a tenor of ferocity like a cat about to pounce in his thoughts.

The answer came to me quickly. Eric Yorkie must have seen me as well and had reported it. The Chief knew more than he was letting on.

"No," I disagreed, feeling his disappointment that I wasn't caught in the lie. Christ, this dude hated me, or was at least looking for a legitimate reason to hate me. So this was what Bella had been referring to when she mentioned the Chief's interrogation tactics. "I was still close to them. I saw the van coming before they did and pushed them out of the way." If I could have sweat, I would have been dripping as I carefully navigated these landmines.

He made another note on his pad. "Not a single other one of the witnesses reported seeing you near the wreckage. Don't you think that's strange?"

"Not really," I said with as calm an exterior as I could manage. "I wasn't hurt at all and, as you can imagine, quite freaked out. Since I got out pretty quickly, I'm sure people thought I was just another spectator. Plus, their attention was clearly elsewhere." That sounded plausible, right?

"So you pushed two people to safety and then walked away from the scene of an accident without a scratch?" He sounded incredulous.

I chanced a smile, playing dumb. "Lucky, isn't it?"

"Eric Yorkie said you 'threw him over the hood of Bella's truck like he was a ragdoll'," the Chief recited from his little book. Whoops. "Bella never mentioned you."

"Bella was knocked out cold, so I'm not surprised. And I don't know if I pushed Eric _that _far," I said, forcing as natural sounding a chuckle as I could. Letting my smile drop, I said in a quieter voice, "I'm just glad I was there to push them aside at all. I mean, think about the alternative."

"I have," the Chief said gruffly. "Many times." He shook his head. "Do you know of anyone that might have a grudge against Tyler?"

"No," I answered simply, relieved by the topic change. At least, no thoughts I'd overheard had been menacing or threatening towards him.

"And you didn't see anything suspicious? Anything at all?"

I could see he was clutching at straws, but shook my head nonetheless. "No, sir. I can't think of anyone that would have done this, even if it was just a stupid prank."

He sighed and nodded. "You're free to go then. Thank you for answering my questions. You call me if you think of anything."

"Of course," I nodded, standing to depart and leaving Chief Swan with the pieces of a puzzle I wasn't sure how to solve either.

***V*V*V*V***

**BAM! Murder mystery.**


	19. In Which I Peek

**Hello! Many of you seem to like the "plot twist" of the last chapter - while also wanting more interaction between Edward and Bella (looking at you ****Lady Smith Black Mumbazo)**

**So here I fulfill the interaction part with the gleeful whisper of "just you wait" regarding more plot twists.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

The remainder of the school day was a painfully slow blur, my thoughts, similar to the rest of the students, residing with Bella Swan. Though, unlike the rest of the students, I thought of the sight of her underneath me in that blue bra (rather than the sight of her underneath a van with blood gushing from her head, later being loaded into an ambulance, neck brace and all). I thought of the fierce declaration that she, too, had secrets. I wondered if she had liked the flowers. I wondered if she would be angry at me for killing her ex-boyfriend.

When the day was blessedly over, I did not waste time. Without returning home, I drove directly to Bella's little yellow house, pleased to see that she had left her window open, hopefully in invitation.

I chanced it.

I leaped into my spot in the fir tree and prepared to jump through her window. Naturally, I looked into her room so I could aim my motions, not wanting to accidentally jump into the side of her house or something.

I stopped cold.

It wasn't so much what I saw as what I heard. A long, guttural moan followed by a high-pitched intake of breath. My first instinct was that she'd fallen and hurt her recently injured head. But I saw her lying in bed, toes curling haphazardly.

Another moan.

Looking again, I saw that she was masturbating, one arm slung low between her legs, her breath coming in pleasurable pants. She was partially obscured because of the angle of the bed, but the view I had was enough to be certain of her actions.

_Now, _that_ is hot shit,_ Vladimir said appreciatively.

For once, I agreed with him. I was transfixed, mesmerized by her sweet little sounds. The auditory portion was graphic enough that my brain created a vivid mental picture. I imagined that _I _was causing her to make those noises.

It was terribly invasive, of course, to be a peeping Tom during such a private moment, but I was not a strong man. Not when it came to this blushing, delicate, very-much-human girl.

I wasn't sure how long I stayed hooked onto that tree limb because I measured time by her moans, but I could hear a definitive increase in volume and intensity. She was getting closer. From the way Count Cockula jerked and bobbed every time she made a sound, it was like I was living her orgasm right along with her, listening intently as one particularly long groan seemed to mark her climax, her back arching off the bed. Then the lower half of her body – the only part I could see from this angle – fell slack and her breath became even and heavy.

Oh. My. God.

Holy fucking shit, that was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen. The full realization of the show I had just witnessed seemed to come to me slowly – I had just watched Isabella Swan pleasure herself towards orgasm. Sure, I hadn't seen half her body in this process, had missed her expression, had missed most of the process, but that did not matter one tiny little bit. I just knew that, while I lacked the control to safely have sex with her or even to withstand much physical contact in case I did my spunk fire hydrant imitation again, I was going to give this girl an orgasm, come hell or high water.

My dick ached in a mournful way that surpassed any previous discomfort, perhaps sensing her proximity and my resolve to pleasure her without receiving any myself. He didn't take it very well. God, I _wanted _her.

Trying to control my urges as Count Cockula shuddered in my pants, I hopped down from my tree and, in an attempt to play innocent, texted Isabella.

_Hey, is it ok if I come over? – E_

Her response was quick.

_Yes. – B_

_Good. Because I'm in your driveway. – E_

_Typical. – B_

Just for show, I closed my Volvo's door louder than normal so that the sound would carry and then crept to the side of the house, leaping vertically up to her window and hoisting myself in. Her room smelled like sex and she looked flushed – none of which surprised me, though I was unexpectedly satisfied to see the evidence. Even if I hadn't been lucky enough to witness Isabella Swan orgasm, I would have known. She smelled effusively of sweet blood made more intoxicating by a fresh tide of endorphins and dopamine. Delicious. Raw electricity cracked between us at a fever pitch and I stepped forward, drawn to her in more ways than one.

Perhaps noticing my lustful appraisal, Bella looked down at herself and saw the red, splotchy skin of her chest, felt the sheen of sweat on her face. She looked back up and without so much as a hello, said hastily, "Be right back."

I heard her enter the bathroom and run the faucet for a minute. Her voice, though muted through layers of drywall and insulation, carried enough for me to hear "just play it cool, Swan. Super cool."

I chuckled to myself, the sensation of smiling not as alien since she had fallen into my life. At least she didn't know I'd been spying. For as amazingly poised and composed as she had been in discovering my supernatural traits, I somehow figured that knowing I watched her masturbate would cause an outburst. But, then again, this was Isabella. I had no fucking clue how she would respond to anything; she was like a fascinating sociology experiment in that regard.

Growing bored as two minutes stretched into ten (what the fuck was she doing in there?), I picked up the copy of _Pride and Prejudice _I had purchased for her the night of our first date. She had clearly been reading during her recovery period since the book was held open at a spot much closer to the end. It figured that, despite my semi-pedophile status in chasing a girl over ninety years my junior, she read literature that spanned back before even _my_ human lifetime.

I glanced over the pages and saw that she had written tiny notes into the margins and between lines in her cramped, dark handwriting, dog-earing corners, underlining. She annotated as thoroughly as if it was a class assignment, but knowing Isabella, it made sense to me. Seeing how she had reacted to being surrounded by novels in Moe's bookstore, I could imagine she delved into books wholeheartedly, marking in them as a sign of her total concentration, her complete stake in the story.

Replacing the book on her nightstand, I looked around her room again as I heard the unmistakable sound of the shower turning on. Though I hadn't noticed it in my previous visits, it occurred to me that there were very few pictures or posters decorating her lavender walls. Actually, the only picture I saw rested on her desk, a shot of a dark haired girl with a missing front tooth in the arms of a blonde, blue eyed woman. The older woman's smile was carefree, her resemblance to Bella subtle, but detectable in the set of her eyes and cheekbones. It must be her mother. I wondered what her mother's mind was like, what genetic components had been present to create a girl completely immune to my mental eavesdropping. Was her mother mute, too?

Within another few minutes, Bella returned. "Hey, sorry. I realized how badly I wanted a shower while I was in there. Thank god I didn't need stitches," she said gratefully. "Otherwise, I wouldn't be allowed to wash my hair. It's already a pain enough having to change the gauze."

The wisps of hair at her hairline were beginning to curl and a bead of excess moisture rolled lazily from her jaw to her throat, grazing her collarbone. The color of her chest was now the pink of somebody that had taken a scalding shower and I could feel the heat of her body from across the room. Of course, I barely noticed those things, almost didn't hear her words. Every flickering impression I got was secondary to one important fact.

My Sexy Bitch was wearing a towel.

Just a towel.

Sweet baby Jesus.

I opened and closed my mouth a few times.

Upon seeing that my attention was otherwise captivated, she continued speaking. "See? This is what I was talking about. Look at women like that and you could be rich," she joked, though I could see that she was flattered, smiling secretly, gazing at the floor.

"I'm not that good an actor," I said roughly, gaping openly. I wasn't sure what reaction she'd been expecting by entering a room nearly naked with wet hair, looking like she'd stepped out of a porn film, but I was _not _immune to that shit and I had a sneaking suspicion that she knew _exactly _what she was doing. Sexy minx.

She assessed me just as frankly as I ogled her. "You look hungry."

I was taken aback, wondering how she knew, if it was that obvious that I wanted to devour her. "What?"

"I don't know. You just do." She sounded flippant, her eyes slightly unfocused, not realizing _what _I hungered for.

"No, my appetite is under control," I said, assuring myself more than her, though I wasn't entirely sure which appetite I meant. Still, I policed my expression more carefully. "How's your head feeling?"

"The kind of painkiller I have is some good shit. I barely feel it," she said with a shrug and I could see that was certainly true. "Of course, I can barely stand up straight right now, but at least it doesn't hurt," she said to herself before focusing her eyes on my face again.

"Well, that's a relief . . . I think." I was concerned she'd been left home alone. What if she had fallen down while she was in the shower? She clearly was drugged up enough to be uncoordinated, though I supposed Charlie was heading a manhunt and was far too busy to babysit.

"Are you going to have a panic attack if I drop this towel to change into a fresh pair of clothes? I spontaneously decided to shower and forgot to bring some with me to the bathroom."

I raised an eyebrow, thinking it was by sheer luck that I had caught the rest of her question considering most of my mind was stuck at the phrase 'drop this towel'. Not that I hadn't seen her naked before, but she didn't know that and she'd hadn't been glowing pink and glistening with water that time.

"Am I allowed to watch?"

"Not on your life," she laughed. "But it _is _your lucky day. I'm kind of dizzy. Can you shut your eyes and hold on to me so I don't fall down while I change?" she asked earnestly.

"Of course. But if you think I'm not going to peek, you're sadly mistaken."

Another laugh – god, I loved when she smiled. "What happened to my scared virgin?"

I rolled my eyes, secretly thrilling that I was _hers_. "It's for your safety, not because I'm scared. By that same logic . . . looking won't hurt you." I winked.

She quirked her mouth. "I think you're just a kinky bastard. A _virgin _kinky bastard, but a kinky bastard nonetheless.

"Fair enough." I smiled charmingly.

She bit her lip, thinking carefully, hands clutched around the only piece of fabric she wore. "You get one peek at my boobs, got it?"

"How about two?"

"Don't push your luck, Sparky," she warned, though the effect was ruined by her pleased grin. "I would make you leave the room if I didn't feel like I might fall on my face."

"You didn't make me leave the room when you changed in the hospital," I pointed out.

"You had just brought me pizza," she said seriously, as if that made perfect sense in the bartering system of bare cleavage viewing.

I sighed in theatrical disappointment. "All right, fine. You've played to my sympathies and you drive a hard bargain."

She muttered something under her breath that sounded like "entitlement" before moving to her dresser, picking out sweatpants, a blue t-shirt, and some pale pink, frilly underwear. I tried to not be too obvious in peering over her shoulder to see her panty drawer (lots of black lace in there – score), but she shut it pretty damn fast. However, that was eclipsed by the fact that she was totally going braless if the apparent lack of that particular item was any indication. Fuck yes. Best day ever.

She gestured to the pile and said with mock reverence, "This is my man-eater uniform. Sweatpants and a stretched out t-shirt. You might want to be careful. This top notch sexiness has been known to make men jizz all over themselves."

Both of my eyebrows rose steadily and I smiled with swagger. "I think I'll be able to handle it."

"I don't know," she said doubtfully, eyeing me up and down. "Stronger men than you have fallen prey to my charms. Now close your eyes."

I followed my orders, trying not to delve too deeply into her teasing because I still wanted to murder her ex-boyfriend, whoever the fuck he was. A few seconds passed while she rustled about, shifting her weight back and forth.

"Ok, one peek. Just so you know what you're missing out on."

A groan left my lips even as my eyes flew open eagerly to see that she had lowered her towel enough to expose her breasts, perfect and perky, her nipples small and pink and utterly suckable. God, yes. I felt my hands twitch at my sides, wanting to cup those lovely mounds of flesh in my palms, to feel their warmth and weight. A wide grin stretched across my face.

_BOOBIES! _Vladimir shouted gleefully.

"That's enough," she said, a smile in her voice even as she tried to sound stern.

I shut my eyes again, perfectly happy with myself. Stretching my arm out, I rested one hand at Isabella's waist and another horizontally straight out like a balance bar. She shivered at my icy touch, her heated skin breaking into goose bumps beneath my sensitive fingertips, but made no comment about the temperature. She went about her business like this was totally normal, pulling clothes on. I could feel that she hadn't been kidding about being unstable though, that this wasn't some ploy to torture me further (as if wearing only a towel wasn't bad enough). She swayed and wobbled on her feet numerous times – it was a miracle she'd lived through the shower.

"I can't believe you've survived this long without falling down and dying," I grunted, mostly serious. How tragic would that be?

"Nah, my head is pretty solid." She rapped it a few times with her knuckles from the sound of it.

"I guess you're _boneheaded_," I joked, waving a single jazz hand in the air like a Vaudeville performer.

She huffed, unimpressed as she shimmied around. "Lame, Cullen."

I clicked my tongue. "You said I was funny last night."

"Yeah, well, I was high on drugs last night."

"You're high on drugs right now," I pointed out.

"So that joke must have _really _sucked ass."

I made a sour expression at her and felt cotton fabric brush my hand, knowing she was nearly done.

"I'm going to admit that I'm surprised you haven't been ungentlemanly and molested me yet," Bella laughed.

"Oh, I haven't ruled that out yet, but I've decided to content myself with one peek."

"Why's that?"

The grin that hadn't left my face widened as I said only two words, smug as ever. "Photographic memory."

"Ass." She swatted my arm, doing about as much damage as a feather duster. "Ok, I'm done. Thanks for helping."

I opened my eyes, immediately gazing at her body despite it being sadly covered in clothes.

"Thanks for letting me look at your boobs," I replied happily. Even now, her nipples poked out of the thin cotton, plainly outlined. Fuck yeah. I didn't care what sarcastic commentary she had about her man-eater uniform; she looked fine as hell.

"Well, I understand how hard they are to resist," she said gravely. "They practically have their own tractor beam."

I stared down at my favorite set of twins again, gliding my tongue over my lips appreciatively. "Isabella, you have _no _idea."

"So, tell me: are you a boobs or ass man?" she asked, running her hands through her long, dark tangles of hair. This arched her back, pushing her chest out to strain against the fabric of her shirt even more. Maybe God did exist.

Thankfully, I was more accustomed to her blunt questioning now and did not choke in surprise. Without pause, I answered, "Both."

"That's not fair. You have to pick," she argued, throwing her dirty clothes in her hamper and nearly tripping on the way there.

I was at her side before she had time to fall down, steadying her. Taking full advantage, I pressed a kiss to her collarbone, wrapping my arms around her from behind and nuzzling my face into her neck. Christ, she smelled so good when she was fresh from the shower, her blood still drawn to the surface of her skin. "Isabella Swan, where your tits and ass are concerned, I pick both, fair or not." I patted aforementioned ass once for emphasis, pressing my groin against her. She responded for a heated moment by rolling her hips back towards me – there was no way in hell she couldn't feel my erection digging into her – before exhaling loudly.

"How the fuck are you so damn smooth?" she grumbled, turning around in the circlet of my arms to face me. "Oh, speaking of smooth, thanks for the flowers. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to get into my pants."

I laughed – loudly – because this was, at its core, my very intention. Especially after my one peek. Despite all of my worries for consuming her, damning her soul, or scaring her away, I truly did have simple intentions. Sure, my heart had gotten snagged up in this mess along the way, but Count Cockula had unwavering laser focus. I just had to figure out how to do it without killing her or myself in the process. And in the meantime, maybe I could pleasure her – surely that was safe?

"Get into your pants?I don't think you could handle that much man," I said while I preened, joking even as I knew it was a very likely scenario. Vampires were not the most gentle of lovers if the sex lives of my family were any indication.

"On the contrary, Captain Cullen," she said with a sloppy salute, "I am far too much of a woman." She slapped her own ass for effect, wiggling her booty in her sweatpants.

I tried to hide my lascivious amusement with a scoff. She was delusional and I told her so.

"Virgin," she taunted, sticking her tongue out and waggling her fingers at me.

"Low blow, Swan. Low blow." I covered my unmoving heart with my palm, feigning betrayal.

"All's fair in love and war, Cullen."

I was too much of a pussy to ask which one this was, so I pulled her against me and pressed a kiss to her lips instead. "I've been wanting to do that all day."

She grinned. "Me, too . . . interspersed with my urge to slap you."

"Why?" This was news to me.

"Your note. You can't just vaguely hint at some embarrassing thing I said in my sleep and disappear for hours."

"My humblest apologies," I breathed as I relaxed, pressing light kisses to her cheeks, her jaw, her neck. Especially her neck. I delicately trailed my tongue along the purpled skin of her hickey, tasting strawberry body wash and water.

"Mmm, that's nice . . . um . . . I . . . I mean, I'll forgive you. If you tell me what I said, that is. Don't spare my feelings. Just lay it on me."

_Yeah, lay it on her, Eddie boy, _Vladimir begged.

_Shut it, you._

I let my hand draw a cool trail down her spine and leaned into her ear. "You said my name. All night. There might have been some moaning, but maybe that was just my optimistic imagination." I took a step back to grin devilishly at her.

She blushed and then sighed resignedly. "Well, I suppose it could have been worse given what I was dreaming about."

I quirked an eyebrow. "What _were _you dreaming about?"

Now it was her turn to look impish. "If you think you're getting my subconscious sexual fantasies that easily, you've got another thing coming." There was a pause. "Wait a minute. Did you say all night? As in you were in my room _all night_?"

Whoops. I hadn't meant to let that one slip. I smiled a bit guiltily. "Would you be upset at me if I said yes?

"Well, no, I guess not. It's not like I ordered you to leave. Did you even sleep? I don't share blankets very well. Did you have enough room?"

This girl might have been certifiably insane. I intruded in her room and watched her sleep and her first concern was whether she had shared her blanket properly. Crazy. "No, I didn't sleep. Yes, I had enough room," I answered, still thinking she was out of her goddamn mind.

"You didn't sleep? And you went to school? And you magically found a bouquet of flowers somewhere in between that time?"

I nodded guilelessly.

"And, of course, you still look fucking perfect," she groused, pouting. "God, I knew I hated you."

I smiled. "Hate is a passionate emotion. I'll take it."

"And murder is the ultimate crime of passion," she added sweetly, tapping my nose with the tip of her index finger and nearly falling over in the process. I grasped her elbow and gently led her back to her bed, lying down next to her and trying not to be too obvious as I inhaled the saturated scent of sweat and her own wetness from the covers.

"Speaking of murder, I saw your father today."

***V*V*V*V***

**I just had to cut the chapter off here. This thing is atrociously long in its entirety.**


	20. In Which I Am A Meat Locker

**Alakazam! Boom. Update.**

**-MsSailorman**

*V*V*V*V*

"Don't tell me: he tried to kill you. He's unstable, that man." She curled onto her side and slung her leg across my stomach, her head tucked into the nook of my shoulder as if we were an established couple that always did this. This was something I loved about Isabella: she felt free to physically express herself and was unabashed about doing so.

"Not yet," I chuckled, petting her wet hair. "He was at school interviewing people about yesterday."

"Interviewing?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. "Why? It was an accident."

"I guess interrogating is a better word. Apparently someone cut Tyler's brake line and it's being investigated as a potential murder attempt. You can imagine that would rouse suspicion," I relayed, still puzzling over the mystery myself as I felt Bella's whole body tense against mine. "Your father wanted to talk to me because Eric Yorkie reported that I pushed him out of the way of the van."

Her eyes widened. "I swear I didn't say anything to him, Edward," she said urgently. "Not Eric and especially not Charlie." In that moment, it felt like we were a team, us against the world.

"Shhh, I know," I said soothingly. "It's all right. No harm done." I took a few moments to the recount pieces of my conversation with Chief Swan in which I had strategically answered his questions, making sure she knew the new cover story.

She bit her lip, concerned. "Did he think you knew something about the van's brakes?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. He asked if I'd seen anything suspicious or knew of anyone that might have a grudge against Tyler."

She groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "That's terrible."

"Hey, it's ok. It was probably just some stupid prank."

She just shook her head. "Distract me. Tell me pretty things before I get traumatic flashbacks or something."

"I think seeing you underneath me in a blue bra last night was one of the hottest sights in the whole goddamn universe," I whispered earnestly. "Or at least I did until I peeked."

She smiled. "That was payback for taking your shirt off in the hospital. Show off much?"

"I was just giving you some incentive to date me," I said arrogantly, grinning. "I thought I was going to have to resort to saying 'if you go on a date with me again, I'll let you touch my glorious abs, no charge.'"

Isabella rolled her eyes and immediately yanked my shirt up from my stomach, pressing her flaming palm directly onto my skin. "You're not charging me jack shit, Sparky," she said fiercely. Then, the crazy force of nature that she was, she leaned down, the wet tendrils of her hair trailing over my skin, and pressed an open mouthed kiss to each protruding abdominal muscle – lingering on the lowest two – before resurfacing with a triumphant smile.

My hands were fisted into my hair, trying desperately to control myself and not skull fuck her to death. God, I wanted a blowjob. Anything. Any contact at all. Count Cockula was dying a slow, blue death.

"Oh, Edward!" she exclaimed with the enthusiasm of a crack head about to find her next score. "I just had the best idea!"

"Oh?" My voice crackled with tension.

"So you're kind of your own meat locker temperature wise," she stated as if reciting the weather forecast. She grabbed one of my hands and tugged to remove it from my hair (I let her because lord knows she wouldn't have had much success otherwise), placing it down around her body. "I need you to press your hand against my back right – yes, right there. Good. That feels so good." She groaned appreciatively, curving her lower back against my hand. "I strained my back when I fell down yesterday."

"When I pushed you down, you mean," I corrected, feeling guilty. I should have shielded her better.

"Oh, hush. Could you put your other hand at the back of my head where I – mmm, yes, that's nice." I had her entirely encased in my limbs now as she smiled contentedly. Gently, I kneaded my fingertips into the knotted muscles of her spine and she made a noise not unlike the display from my voyeuristic adventure.

"Is that ok?" I asked as I worked on a tiny bundle of tense tissue.

"I'll punch you if you stop," she moaned, not even bothering to open her eyes.

"I wouldn't want that. You'd just hurt yourself. Of course, maybe you'd –," I said.

"Cullen, I keep you around for your looks, not your speaking ability. Shut up and rub my back."

I rolled my eyes, though I was grinning at her ribbing. "Yes, ma'am."

We stayed like that for a while, silent except for her occasional pleased groan as I cooled and massaged her, my low body temperature leaving her entirely unfazed. After perhaps twenty minutes of this, she let out a tranquil sigh and her eyes fluttered open.

"Ok, I'm good. You can stop now."

"I can keep going if you want. I don't mind." It was true. I loved those little sounds she made. It wasn't orgasmic, but it was close enough.

"No, that's all right. I'll be a puddle of goo if you do that much longer."

"I don't know. Your mind seems kind of gooey already," I joked.

"It's the drugs, I tell you!" She shrugged after her declaration. "But, you know what? I don't even care. It's nice to be so . . . blank, I guess." She tucked her chin back against me and snuggled in for a moment before her head popped back up. "Edward, I realized why you don't have many friends," she said randomly.

"Why's that?" I asked indulgently.

"Because you're always giving people the cold shoulder. Get it? The _cold shoulder, _Edward! Because you're cold!" She could barely get out her words given that she was laughing hysterically at her own joke.

"And you were saying _my _jokes suck." I chuckled and shook my head. "I'm going to have to talk to Carlisle. I think your dose is too high."

"Nooooo," she whined, grasping fistful of my shirt.

"My little drug addict."

"Am not," she pouted. "I'm just enjoying the effects until I am healed. You should take advantage while you can. I'm awfully handsy when I'm under the influence of substances." As if to emphasize her point, her hand drifted dangerously low on my abdomen, tracing the angled lines of my hips.

"That you are," I agreed, my voice rough. I covered her hand with my own to keep her from sliding any lower and tempting me – well, tempting me _more_, that was. I knew I'd kill her if my body released a pink jizz fountain again and I just couldn't bear the thought – of both the cum rocket and her death. Looking at boobies was one thing, but actually allowing her to touch me . . . "You're playing with fire."

"More like playing with ice," she grumbled. "Look, you're packing a boner the size of Russia down there, so I know you want me. You keep saying 'another day', but can you please give me a good reason why I should not vent my sexual frustration all over your dick?"

_Yes, please let her vent. For the love of Mother Russia, let the girl vent! _Vladimir cried, clutching a bottle of vodka.

"Isabella, I want you so badly. You have to know that," I pleaded, willing her to feel my desperate desire. "But it's not safe." I wanted to smack myself in the face for even saying the words when I so easily could have fucked her senseless (maybe even with her permission), but for perhaps the first time since meeting her, I truly felt my mind held more control than my body's urges. And my mind was finding more things about Isabella Swan that I absolutely could not live without. Like her glorious rack.

"What are you going to do? Impale me to death on your penis?" she asked, mocking.

A barking laugh sounded from the window. "Is this a bad time?"

***V*V*V*V***

**I love writing their conversations. But as for the next chapter . . . well, just hang on to your mittens.**


	21. In Which I Meet the Dogs

**I have to give you credit. Many of you correctly guessed who the window visitor is. Good job.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

Bella, who had not batted an eye over finding I had no pulse, shrieked, bolting upright. "Jesus Christ!"

Within a second, I had disengaged from Bella and crouched on the floor in front of the bed, ready to attack if need be. Of course, that was unnecessary. Emmett's curly head popped into view from the window frame. I had been so focused on my predicament with Bella that my mental net had not been very alert. Standing into a more relaxed position – though still defensively guarding Bella from view – I faced my brother.

"Yes, Emmett, this a bad time," I answered dryly, trying to keep my temper in check. I knew I would be hearing about Bella's penis impalement line for the rest of forever. "You could have called."

"Not if you don't answer your phone, asshole."

I felt around in my pocket and saw that the device was on silent mode and had collected eight missed calls. Fuck.

"You need to come home." _James and Victoria crossed the border into the reservation and we're close to having a war on our hands._

His thoughts told me what he chose not to say in front of Bella. While it was a concise summation, his underlying gleefulness at the prospect of battle had me wanting to punch him.

I cursed colorfully. "Goddamn, this is why I hate people!" I growled, a shred of my usual misanthropic nature bursting through in synchronization with my anger. "Is anyone dead?"

_Not that I know of, but then again, I was sent to get you. Maybe the action started without me._ He would be very disappointed if this was the case.

"Fuck. Fine. I'm coming. I'll meet you at the border."

"Nice to meet you, Isabella," Emmett called happily over my shoulder, smiling widely at her, curious as to what I found so appealing about her. His gaze appraised her probingly before resting on her breasts, her nipples painfully evident – she'd been cold from contact with my icy skin, after all. _Bingo,_ he thought. _He likes her tits._

"Um, hello." She waved weakly back, lifting the comforter up to her nose, the small portion of her visible face bright red.

Emmett, still inquisitive, inhaled deeply like he was savoring the bouquet from a bottle of fine wine and winked at me, understanding. "Nice one, bro. She smells awesome."

I growled at him before he dropped from the window with one last smug smile, disappearing into the woods. "Motherfucker," I hissed after him.

Bella got up to her knees in her bed, heart-shaped face alarmed. "What the fuck was that about?"

I sighed, rubbing my face. "Just some rude houseguests."

"They killed someone?" To her credit, she tried to appear completely calm about this possibility, though her voice quavered.

I shook my head. "Just a big misunderstanding. I'll explain later."

"You seem to be saying that a lot," she noted.

I shrugged apologetically. "I have to go."

"I'll leave the window open for you," she sighed. "But I'm going to need some real answers soon, Edward." I heard the frustration behind it, the effort she had put into pretending she wasn't desperately curious about my _otherness _and, much as she denied it, afraid.

"This weekend. Then you can run away screaming." I offered a wry smile and kissed her cheek before plummeting out the window towards the ground, catching her mumbled indignation about giving me something to scream about.

*V*V*V*V*

I could hear the mental outrage miles before I actually reached the reservation's border. Five werewolves were splayed in a "V" formation – the traditional territorial display – and were facing off against the members of my family, my cousins, and Laurent. While James was nowhere to be seen, Victoria was kneeling on the ground at the feet of the wolves, her pale throat encased by razor sharp teeth in the jaws of a gray wolf as her catlike eyes twitched back and forth. I could barely read her thoughts with how snarled they were.

"Oh, Edward, thank goodness!" Esme's voice pealed as she noticed me running towards them, dodging trees. I didn't need Jasper's gift for sensing emotion to tell how tense this standoff was. None of the vampires dared move with Victoria as a hostage and the wolves knew that killing her was to destroy their whole pack when facing off against an incredible showing of thirteen vampires.

"We've been waiting," Carlisle explained, his voice taking the tone he had when trying to remain calm despite the panic underneath – he reminded me of Isabella. "They won't talk to us."

"They won't change forms to communicate when they're so outnumbered," I quickly gathered, my eyes scanning across their numbers quickly. They had grudging admiration for our preparedness, though they took this to mean we had planned to kill them all.

"I know. I told them that you could translate for us."

I nodded, feeling guilty that they had been standing here anxiously on my account, though that feeling quickly dissipated as I was absorbed into the pack mentality.

_Your leader said you can read our thoughts. Is that true? _A large black wolf at the point of the formation stared me down, the thought coming directly from him as his mind echoed the loudest.

"Yes, I can read your thoughts."

A shudder went through the pack and I heard their panic, their instantaneous dislike, their strong desire to rip me to pieces. In response to this sudden movement, the Denali coven bent lower, defensive.

_Your friends entered our land and attempted to feed on the human population. We caught the male feeding on the neck of a boy._

Growling erupted from several of the wolves over this particular crime, an image of a black haired boy screaming as James bent over his throat circulating amongst them.

_This is a direct violation of our treaty._

"They weren't part of the treaty. They were visiting and didn't know the rules." This wasn't entirely true – I knew they had been told to avoid the area, but I wasn't above lying to save lives.

_They were visiting you. They were your responsibility to inform. We may have forgiven ignorance if they had simply passed through, but our first priority is protecting our people. The male is dead. _

An image of pale chunks of flesh burning filled their group mind and one younger wolf let out a triumphant howl.

"Why have you kept Victoria alive then?" This was unusual, I thought. Not that we normally had any dealings with the wolves aside from steadfastly avoiding each other, but we had never had a hostage crisis before. The impression I got was that normal protocol called for immediate death – kill now, ask questions later kind of procedures.

_She surrendered and she did not feed on anyone, _the alpha said, his mental voice tinged with confusion and shame. It was by his order that they had kept her as a hostage instead of killing her and he was worried that the pack would think him weak for that decision. But he had been disarmed by seeing a beautiful woman fall to her knees and declare her forfeit; it made him feel as if it was more like murder than usual, an execution rather than a fight.

"James is dead," I relayed to my family grimly, knowing they were growing more apprehensive the longer I went without translating for them. "He bit a boy on the reservation and they killed him. Victoria surrendered."

Laurent, Irina, Tanya, and Kate gasped and hissed while Victoria, held immobile by the sharp teeth at her throat, made a high-pitched keening noise that traveled up my spine with its acute grief, her mind a pit of feral anger and loss.

That was when I realized what I'd been missing. Perhaps because I had been so overwhelmed and distracted upon initially meeting them, I had failed to see the bond between James and Victoria. They were mates.

"Filthy mongrels," Irina growled.

A brown wolf flanking the end of the formation snapped his teeth at her.

"What now?" Carlisle asked. "What do they plan to do with Victoria?" He cringed at the thought of seeing an execution play out in front of our eyes, detesting violence.

_She surrendered, _the black wolf's thoughts repeated. _We will return her if we have your word that you will not attack our pack._

Ah, so that was the holdup, the crux of the matter. The wolves were worried that they were bringing war upon their community by killing a vampire that might have been a friend of ours (though they remained fiercely unapologetic about that choice). They saw Victoria as their only way to prevent war this very moment and were loathe to give up their one bargaining piece.

"The rest of this group didn't know they were hunting in La Push. Obviously, we would have stopped them if we had," I told the wolves, though I felt myself lying. Alice. Hadn't Alice seen this happening?

For the space of a second, my eyes flicked to where she stood in our vampire lineup. She was watching me already. Raising my eyebrows slightly, I hoped she understood my silent question.

_No,_ she thought anxiously. _I can't see the wolves. James and Victoria disappeared from the future the moment they decided to hunt in La Push. I can't see _anything _with all these damn dogs around. I don't know if this will escalate to a fight or not._

Well, shit. We would have to discuss this later. I turned back to the wolves, hoping our exchange had gone unnoticed.

_We doubt you would have stopped them. You have so many assembled here as if this was planned. Besides, you have broken the treaty. We can see your eyes, vampire. You've had human blood._

I groaned. So far that little situation had caused nothing but trouble. "It was donated blood. I didn't fang anybody down in the streets," I growled, irritated, losing my careful diplomacy. "And these vampires are gathered here because they were showing more vampires our way of life in avoiding killing humans." I realized the irony as I spoke that this particular mission had failed especially miserably. Wasn't it the thought that counted?

The wolves rumbled at my harsh tone and pawed the ground restlessly. I sighed.

"Look, we have no plans to overthrow your pack and run rampant through your community in a blood rage or whatever it is that you think we do. You were justified in your actions and my family will not retaliate. You have my word."

_Let us hear the word of your leader._

"Carlisle, they want to hear it from you," I ground out, beyond irritated. We had lived peaceably for how many decades, bargaining with their ancestors? These were pups, like toddlers with knives for teeth, bred towards hatred and suspicion and it was getting on my fucking nerves. Somebody sneezed around here and they pounced.

Carlisle, still interested in a pacifist solution, took a step forward and flipped his hair. "We have no intentions aside from living peacefully. My family will not attack you and will continue to abide by the treaty if you return Victoria to us. I can't speak for our friends, but you have my word." He turned to look at Eleazar, the head of the Denali clan.

Eleazar nodded. "My family will not retaliate either." Irina, linked by the hand to Laurent, tensed, rolling her shoulders.

It occurred to me that Laurent was a free agent, not bound by Eleazar's promise while also having lost the most – second after Victoria – from James' death.

"Laurent, your choice is your own," I said formally, hearing his thoughts as he weighed his options. He mostly felt relief for his freedom, having drifted away from James and Victoria for years. It had been a relationship of convenience rather than solidarity.

His dreads shifted gently as he bobbed his head once. "You have my word as well." He did not feel enough loyalty to James to try to avenge him by taking on five wolves.

I looked back towards the formation of canines, figuring this should satisfy them despite their undulating unease. "None of us will attack. Let her go."

_Tell her she is not welcome here. Our pack will attack to kill next time._

I thought that was pretty fucking obvious, but you couldn't say they weren't thorough.

"Victoria," I addressed her directly for the first time. Her eyes flicked to me, inscrutable, her mind just as unintelligible. "You may not ever return to the reservation. The wolves aim to kill if you ever step foot on their land again." I felt this was a fair condition despite my prevalent frustration with the whole situation.

Their warning delivered, the rest of us waited.

It wasn't an immediate process, but the wolf that held Victoria captive in his jaws slowly opened his mouth wider, allowing her to withdraw her neck from the proximity of the only thing besides vampire teeth that could pierce our granite skin. Her thoughts were tangled and pulsing red with rage and sorrow, no concrete dialogue passing through except for the idea of escape. The moment she was free of those fangs, she jettisoned north without a word of thanks or acknowledgment, heading towards the mountains with her fiery red curls flying behind her.

Both sides of our tense party watched her go.

_Will she return? _the alpha asked.

My eyes swiveled to Laurent. "They want to know if Victoria will come back."

Laurent thought through this. "Victoria's gift is her instinct for survival. Perhaps that is why she surrendered so easily; it was the only way she would live. Given that, I think she knows better than to come back," he said, turning to the pack. "However, our kind does not easily forgive the murder of a mate."

_Mates?_

I pursed my lips. "Yes, you've killed her mate. We bond to our mates just as strongly as you do to yours, werewolf," I informed him, catching mental flashes of a woman with a horribly scarred face with a backdrop of supreme love and devotion. _Emily_, his brain told me. "I see you _do _know."

The wolves growled, disliking my insider information of their minds.

_If she does come back – _

"Then you may act as you wish," I confirmed grimly. "She knows the consequences of returning."

Our vampire faction all shifted restlessly, but there was not much I could do to comfort them. Victoria wasn't our responsibility, as she hadn't joined Eleazar's coven and Laurent's allegiances had additionally aligned elsewhere. The wild redhead had fair warning now.

"The wolves would like us to leave now," I informed my family. The wolves refused to depart because it warred too heavily with their instincts to turn their backs to vampires.

"Yes," Carlisle murmured. He met the eyes of the central black wolf. "Thank you." The words were genuine, fervent. "That was very just."

The leader dipped his large head briefly and I figured this did not bear translating.

Emmett grinned at the wolves. "We live to fight another day, eh?"

_You would not live if we fought_, the leader thought, his mental voice colored with amusement at Emmett's jovial attitude.

"He says you wouldn't live if you two fought. He also thinks you're funny," I communicated.

Emmett seemed to ponder this for a moment before slowly approaching the wolf pack at its protruding point. Several of them growled at him, but he paid them no mind, close enough that if he reached his arms out, he would be petting fur. I saw his intent in his mind and wanted to punch him in his stupid face, but failed to intervene as the rest of them, anxiously wishing to return home. Emmett seemed unconcerned, easygoing as he looked into the alpha's eyes.

"What's his name?" he asked me, turning his head over his shoulder.

I heard the answer from their thoughts. "Sam Uley."

Emmett smiled. "Sam, huh? Well, Sam, if we ever have another human-hunting vampire rampaging through the area and it comes to a fight, you get first dibs on me. I still think I could take you, though." From Emmett, this was almost like an extension of friendship.

A coughing, barking noise issued from Sam, a sound I took to be chuckling. "He says that until you both fight, he will agree to disagree."

Emmett's booming laughter filled the forest. "Man, you're all right. For a dog, that is."

"He thinks you're all right for a bloodsucking leech," I said, rolling my eyes. This was infantile.

Emmett held out his fist in front of him and Sam bumped it once with his nose. While Emmett smiled, something that could have been construed as a toothy grin appeared on Sam's fuzzy face.

"All right, catch ya' later, bro," Emmett called cheerfully, wheeling around to run with his family.

We all stared at him in amazement as he caught up to us.

"What?" he asked defensively, taking off into the forest. We all followed, Irina and Rosalie looking particularly scandalized.

"I can't believe you fist bumped a dog!" Rosalie hissed, narrowly dodging a tree as her attention was diverted.

"They're not that bad. Sure, they smell bad, but they're ok once you get past the odor." Emmett's childlike enthusiasm was exhausting sometimes.

"They killed James! They would have killed Victoria if we hadn't been there!" Irina yelled, the most indignant on behalf of the nomadic trio.

"And get past the fact that all of them were analyzing ways to kill you," I muttered, jumping across a creek as we raced home.

Emmett raised an eyebrow at me as if I'd just made his day and I groaned when I realized why, reading his malicious intent. He giggled like a child, pleased to unleash the ammo he had in his verbal artillery. "Speaking of ways to kill people, you guys won't _believe _what I overheard when I went to fetch lover boy."

I jumped on his back in an incredible leap, wrapping my hand around his mouth to silence him. "If you say anything about what you heard," I whispered in his ear, low enough so that only he could hear, "I'll tell Rose how you stared at Bella's breasts."

He let out a tiny whimper, torn. Grasping my arms, he tossed me off of his back, never breaking stride. "Fine. You win this one."

***V*V*V*V***

**Did I mention plot twist? Because yeah. Plot twist.**


	22. In Which I Reject the Tramp

**Hello, all. Shit is getting real.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

"So, let me get this straight," Rose said acidly, arms crossed. "You stopped a van in the middle of a public parking lot to save your stupid human yesterday, not giving a single shit about the rest of your family and our safety, which was bad enough. But as if you were deliberately trying to be an asshole, you were lounging around in her bed not answering your phone while the rest of us stared down a whole pack of wolves today?"

I sighed, searching the eyes of the rest of our assemblage for someone to save me from Rosalie's rampage. In a scene much like the Denali's first entrance, we were all gathered in the living room, albeit short two vampires now. Rose was standing, leaning over me to look more menacing as she delivered what she felt to be a necessary dose of public shaming.

"Yup," I answered tonelessly, not at all in the mood for her queries. She knew the answers already considering how thoroughly Emmett had filled everyone in as to my whereabouts. Not even my threat to oust him to Rosalie had kept him from sharing every other detail.

"You're such a smarmy little shit, Edward Cullen! Why do you have to be such a selfish idiot?"

Alice, much more relaxed now that we were away from the blinding wolf pack, looked up from the chess match she was engaged in with Kate. "Rose, just let it go. Edward's going to turn her eventually anyway. You might as well accept it now."

While Tanya choked in surprise from her place by the glass wall, I simultaneously contradicted Alice, saying, "No, I'm not." Make Bella into a cold member of the damned? Hell no.

Carmen broke away from her conversation with Esme – something about crochet patterns – to voice her pleasure. "I'm sure she'll make a lovely vampire. I'm so glad she's not just some . . . _physical _acquaintance." Carmen, similar to Esme, had lush visions of a future vampire bride, though she was genuinely enthused to see me happy.

"How could she be?" Tanya interrupted, her own jealousy and unreturned sexual desire for me trumping any social requisite for manners. "He's impotent, for god's sake!"

The whole room went silent, one half of its occupants aware of Bella's influence on that particular part of my anatomy while the other half considered Tanya's outburst horribly rude, mortified on my account. Most people, while aware of my dysfunction, were far too polite to mention anything, though their thoughts lingered on that topic frequently no matter what they chose to keep to themselves. However, this was a step too far.

I eyed Tanya with renewed appraisal and worked to keep the smile off my face. It was time for my big reveal.

"Tanya, may I speak to you alone please?" I asked, my voice offended and stern. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alice bite her lip to hide her smile, foreseeing my plan.

Tanya, not noticing Alice's amusement, backtracked, perhaps sensing she had overstepped the boundaries. "I didn't mean anything by it. I was just saying that –," she began.

"Now," I said more firmly, standing and leading the way to the backdoor to prepare for a run into the forest where no one would overhear us. I didn't have to look behind me to know she was following, hearing her chagrin and curiosity.

I ran without regard for her pace – she was slower – until several miles separated us from the main house. It was enough. Stopping abruptly, I watched as she caught up, approaching hesitantly from between the trees

"I'm sorry," she said, her eyes widened to appear more innocent, her strawberry curls wild around her face.

My lips pursed. "You have known about my _condition _for years, Tanya. And for all those years, you've flirted with me," I said, my tone dry. "At first I was flattered, even attracted to you. But you . . . you've been a bitch."

"I didn't –," she tried to argue.

"Don't try to lie. To me or yourself. I can read your mind so there's no point in denying it. You kept pushing me when you knew I couldn't reciprocate and after a while, it was not because you liked me. It was because you saw it as a challenge to 'fix' me. You liked seeing me embarrassed and uncomfortable, like I was some kind of toy. You felt like – you _still _feel like you own me somehow," I said bitterly, growing more angered as the truth of my words flowed over me.

Her face grew steely and unrepentant. "I was just having some fun. Did you just bring me out here to rebuke me?"

"No, I did not."

"Well, what then? I've apologized for what I said and I won't mention it again."

"No," I agreed triumphantly, "you won't."

She was confused by my aggressive smile.

Then, silently, I began to unzip my jeans, purposefully tearing through my now customary duct tape cummerbund as it ripped loudly.

"What the fuck?" she said, stepping back.

Without explanation, I yanked down my boxers and pants, all nine, thick inches of Count Cockula springing free from the duct tape prison in a magnificent display.

She gasped, her eyes transfixed. "Holy shit!" Her golden eyes flicked back and forth between my straining erection and my victorious face. She ran forward until she was standing a few inches away, a hungry grin on her face. "You can tell me what made this happen later. Right now, we have a few decades of sexual tension to fuck out of ourselves," she hummed in a low voice. _This is why he wanted us out of earshot, _she thought, her mind possessive.

_Whoa, step off, bitch, _Vladimir growled, about as fond of Tanya as I was.

"I am not having sex with you," I declared, holding my hands out to keep her back, feeling Count Cockula twitch angrily at the mere idea.

"Why? Doesn't it work?" She looked down again, concerned.

"Oh, yes, it works," I said confidently, though experience thus far had proved my dick to be temperamental. Semantics.

"Then I don't understand."

Oh, she would. "Let me make it perfectly clear: I don't want you and I will never want you. I just wanted you to see the full potential of what you will never have," I spat.

I could see the awful truth dawning on her as she shook her head. That was the moment I was waiting for – the rug to be pulled out from under her feet. It was beautiful to see all those tormented years vengefully sizzle in the fire of her rejection. And she'd seen my dick to know exactly how _big _that rejection was.

"You don't mean that. You want me. I've seen how you look at me."

"Once, yes," I admitted. "But not anymore." Hitching up my pants, I zipped and buttoned to the best of my ability considering I'd ripped through my hot pink restraining force.

"Is this because of that girl? The human?"

"It doesn't matter why. What matters is that I want you to go back to Alaska. And every time we see each other in the future, I do not want you to flirt with me or proposition me or spend any more of your time convincing yourself that you are special to me," I growled harshly.

Her whole face crumpled like she tasted something putrid.

At that moment, my phone rang. It was Bella. There was no way I wasn't answering this. "Tanya, I've made myself clear. We're done here." Without waiting for her response, I turned my back to her and answered the phone.

Taking a deep breath, I said in a much calmer voice than I had addressed Tanya, "Hello?"

"Hey, is everything ok?"

"Yeah, everything's ok."

"Oh," Bella said. "I just got worried when you didn't come back or call or anything." I could imagine her biting her lip, looking shy, blushing. Suddenly, I missed her intensely, my mind drawn back to her, yearning.

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I've been a bit . . . um," – I looked down at the bulge in my pants where I had tried to contain Count Cockula – "indisposed."

"Is that your fucking pet?!" Tanya demanded shrilly. I had almost forgotten she was standing there, her mind seething with rage.

I held the phone away from my face and looked over my shoulder to glare at her. "Call her my pet one more fucking time."

"Is somebody with you?" Bella asked, overhearing a bit. "I didn't mean to interrupt whatever it is you're doing."

"It doesn't matter. We're done anyway," I said pointedly, scowling at Tanya.

An eyebrow arched daringly, she soundlessly mouthed one word. _Pet._

Within the space of a blink, my knee rested directly on Tanya's throat as I pinned her to the ground, struggling to contain her flailing limbs as they gouged marks into the dirt. Our stone bodies made sounds like scraping metal as they collided, but at least she couldn't talk now. And I hadn't lost my grip on my cell phone.

"What the fuck was that noise?" Bella asked.

"Bad cell reception?" I offered innocently.

"You're making that pretty boy face you have when you're lying, aren't you?"

"What does that even mean?"

"Ugh, forget it."

Tanya worked a leg free and kicked me in the face before I could restrain her by throwing my body weight over her, keeping my knee in place. "Motherfucker!" I shouted, my cheekbone blazing with pain as it mended immediately.

"Excuse me?" Bella asked incredulously.

"Shit. Sorry, not you," I apologized quickly.

"Is whatever you're doing more freaky shit that I can't know about yet?"

"Definitely yes. But I will tell you as much as I can when I see you again."

"And when will that be?"

"Whenever you want me."

"Well, then you should have been here as of five minutes ago."

I grinned despite Tanya's mental curse ridden tirade questioning the sexual decency of my biological mother. "Bored?"

"You have no idea, Sparky. Bring me food, though, because there's no way in hell that I'm cooking tonight. I'll pay you back when you get here. I still owe you for the pizza, too."

I smiled to myself at her request, acknowledging that there was no way in hell she was giving me any of her money. "What would her royal highness like?"

"Ok, I need you to go to the diner on Main Street and look back into the kitchen area," she said seriously, like this was a strategic lecture about war tactics. "If Gustav is working, I want the mushroom ravioli. If it's José, order a burger and tell him it's for Bella Swan. He'll know what to do. Actually, order two burgers. Also, I want a chocolate milkshake. And fries. Don't forget the fries."

Someone had clearly taken another dose of her painkillers. I listened to her detailed instructions, thankful that I had a memory powerful enough that her order wouldn't present a problem. Tanya, who had thankfully stopped struggling upon realizing the futility of fighting against a stronger vampire, grew more incredulous as Bella listed each item that she required, wondering how much food Bella could fit into her tiny stomach. I wondered, too, to be honest. But mostly, I was amazed at how quickly I forgot Tanya's presence despite the fact that if we weren't wearing clothes, it might have looked like we were trying some kind of bizarre sex act. Bella erased all other women in my mind.

"Did you get all that?" Bella asked when I didn't respond.

"Yeah, I got it." I chuckled. "You're kind of crazy. Did you know that?"

"Not crazy. Just hungry. Now get going and feed your woman," she joked.

Despite my current company, I made a low growling noise in my throat, purring. "My woman, huh? I like the sound of that."

Tanya rolled her eyes even as I maintained a death grip on her.

"You know what I like the sound of?" Bella asked, her voice low and sultry.

I couldn't help but ask, "No, what?"

"Food," she said, deadpan. "Get your ass back to my house. And. Don't. Forget. My. Fries."

"Wow, someone knows how to kill the romance," I muttered.

"I will romance you until you want to die from all the sexual torment," she said seductively. "But first, mama needs something to eat."

"I'll get you something to eat," I grumbled to myself. "All right, I'm going. I'll be there soon.

"Good dog, Sparky," she teased.

We hung up and I released my knee from Tanya's crushed windpipe. While she had surrendered before, her impending freedom had her building rage. Naturally, she began screaming bloody murder, loudly enough that the remaining vampires would hear despite the distance we had created.

"Oh, give it a rest," I sighed. "It's not like I ripped your arm off or something. I told you not to call her my pet."

"FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCKING PET, EDWARD CULLEN!" she screeched. "I HOPE YOUR PENIS WITHERS OFF AND YOU DIE A GODDAMN VIRGIN!"

"Well, that's a tad harsh, don't you think?" I asked calmly.

She began a steady stream of defamation and slander in Russian that remained unbroken until vampires began emerging from the forest around us.

I could read from their minds that Alice had given them a word for word transcription of what had happened that would have led to this approximation of mud wrestling. Nobody seemed too upset to see Tanya mushed into the dirt with twigs and leaves embedded in her perfect curls; I took this to be a good sign given that I was probably acting a bit reprehensibly.

"Edward, let her up, would you?" Alice requested in a bored voice.

"Not bloody likely. She'll try to behead me if I do." Of course, as I spoke, I could feel Jasper's soothing talent seep through us. Tanya, much less accustomed to fending off the engineered emotions, went slack. I peeled myself off of her quickly before she realized what was happening.

"Edward, you need to leave now," Alice said in her flutelike voice. Looking into her mind, I saw a mental snapshot of Kate zapping me with her electric current if I tried to explain my actions for pinning her sister down and taunting her with my dick.

It felt like a "Get Out of Jail Free" card to so conveniently clear out at the scene of the assault, but I didn't question my good fortune to have a valid excuse. Instead, I took off towards Forks' one and only diner.

***V*V*V*V***

**More banter on the way.**


	23. In Which I Deliver the Goods

**Hello, all. I just wanted to quickly update while I'm on vacation so you all don't have to go (gasp) DAYS without a chapter.**

**Enjoy. I love the next few chapters.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

"Damn," Bella muttered as she opened the takeout bag, not having blinked twice about my unusual delivery service. It almost seemed normal now to hop into her window. "I was really hoping José would be available." With a slight shrug, she popped open the lid of the pasta container, digging into her mushroom ravioli with a wild fervor that matched my own voracious appetite. For different food, of course, but the sentiment was the same.

We both sat cross-legged on her bed, facing each other with her diner spoils between us, blessedly alone in the house as the Chief worked overtime to crack the Crowley case. The nauseating smell of Bella's food barely bothered me as I watched her eat with a kind of alien admiration. Did she even chew?

"Out of curiosity, what was José supposed to do to your burgers that was so special?"

"That is strictly between José and my taste buds," she said slyly, sucking on the straw of her chocolate milkshake. "I've been coming to Forks every summer since I was a kid so José and I have a special understanding. It's the kind of bond that can't be described, one forged in the fires of culinary enlightenment," she declared theatrically, popping a fry into her mouth. (No, I hadn't forgotten the fries.)

"José, huh? I'll have to keep an eye out for him," I joked, though the possessive asshole inside of me was really fucking serious.

She rolled her eyes and went back to the ravioli before glancing up. "You're staring at me," she grumbled between bites.

"Yup," I acknowledged, not looking away. I hadn't seen her for hours.

She stared right back. "So, care to explain why your clothes are torn and you have dirt all over?"

Oops. I'd forgotten about that remnant of my wrestling with Tanya. I'd gotten some weird looks when I went to buy Bella's food, but no one had mentioned anything about my appearance because I was, after all, a paying customer. "It was just a little scuffle. No one got hurt."

"You got into a _fight_?" she clarified disbelievingly. "Why?"

"That sort of falls into the category of things to tell you at a later date," I said carefully, not sure how she'd react to the truth.

She puffed up her cheeks with air like she was about to burst with frustration before exhaling loudly in a gust of air. "God, you better have some fucking awesome story to tell me later if you're keeping all this shit to yourself," she said. Then, breathing again like she was calming herself, she seemed to rearrange her face as if resetting to normal. "Didn't you get any dinner for yourself?" she asked, looking me up and down. "I feel weird just sitting here pigging out in my sweatpants while you're posing like some kind of model. Not," she added as an afterthought, "that I don't look sexy, because I'm totally hot shit. But still."

"I agree with you there, though I'm hardly posing. I'm just sitting here," I pointed out, raising my hands around me, palms skyward as if to prove my casual manner, purposefully ignoring her food question.

She sighed, dramatically pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "Don't say that. Please pretend like you put effort into looking so perfect so my ego doesn't shatter into a million disappointed pieces. I mean, Jesus," she exhaled huffily, gesturing at my whole body.

"I'm sorry?"

"I mean, do you even style your hair into that chaos or do you just roll out of bed and say 'fuck it, I'm making it work'?" she continued wistfully.

I tugged at the strands. "It just sort of does this. I can't make it lie flat no matter what I do." Alice had been frustrated by that, having dropped thousands of dollars on hair products meant to tame the mess in her mission to 'help' me.

"Ugh," she groaned. "I know I'm eating the food you brought for me, but I legitimately kind of hate you."

"Well, if it helps, I can take my shirt off and you can delight in the fact that I'm in _your_ room and nobody else's," I joked.

She sipped her milkshake. "Yeah, do that."

"Seriously? I was kidding."

"Do I look like _I'm_ kidding?" She didn't. "It's torn anyway, but I can tuck some singles into your pants if that would make you feel more comfortable."

I rolled my eyes even as I complied. It wasn't that I was ashamed of my body – it had, after all, been transformed into something worth admiration – but I anxiously thought of Emmett's advice. _Go back to her house and give it a whirl._ I wanted to. God, I wanted to, but it wasn't that simple. Maybe I was sending the wrong signal by obeying.

"Should I take my pants off, too, your highness?" _Or just totally ignore any and all self-control. That's cool, too._

She flapped her hand graciously. "No, no, let's leave something to my imagination."

"Oh, _thank you_," I drawled sarcastically, dropping my shirt to the floor.

She peeked up at me from underneath her eyelashes. "Do you want some fries?" Considering how determined she had been to get her hands on them, I took her offer to be a great honor. However . . .

"No, thank you."

She gave me the oddest look, her mouth quirking shrewdly. "You . . . you don't eat, do you?" How she had figured that out from a simple fry refusal was beyond me. Thank god all humans weren't this perceptive or I would have been out of the coffin by now.

The part of me that had been playing human for nearly a century immediately responded to the question, not ready to have her find out why I was truly such a danger to her yet. I snatched her milkshake out of her hand – it would be the easiest to regurgitate later – and took a long pull, staring her down. God, it tasted disgusting; it was dead, tepid, and revolting in my mouth.

She grabbed it back. "Hey, hands off the goods! You could have said 'No, Bella, you crazy bitch. I'm just not hungry right now.'" Sighing, she added, "Sorry. I know you'll tell me everything later and I'm just coming up with crazy theories because I'm insanely curious. I don't mean to push you. I just . . . I want to know. I don't like being in the dark."

I rested a hand on her knee. "Ask whatever you want, Bella. It's like I said before. I might not answer, but I won't lie to you." Except for that milkshake thing. Which I hadn't technically lied about, I thought, trying to rationalize to myself. I had just misled her.

_Yeah, yeah, fucktard. Whatever you say, _Vlad chimed lazily.

"Why did you leave today? What happened?"

"We had friends from out of town visiting and they brought some of their friends as well. Those friends pissed off the people on the reservation and I had to go to make sure nobody started fighting."

"But they did start fighting, right? That's why you're all dirty, isn't it?"

"No, we didn't fight. This," I said, gesturing to the dirt smeared on my torso, "happened later."

"Well, how did _that _happen?"

"One of our visitors," I said with distaste. On second thought, I probably should come clean about that part. Not that honesty had been a major part of our relationship thus far – hell, I'd deliberately ignored it most of the time – but I felt this might be the time to incorporate it. "She has been propositioning me for years and was . . . _displeased _when she found out about you and I rejected her. She insulted you and I attacked her."

Bella was silent as her eyes got wider. Then, all at once, questions came tumbling out of her. "For years? How many years? You're only seventeen. Who is she? And how did she find out about me? Does your family know about me? And why the hell did you attack her? You hit a girl? Is she ok?"

"Whoa, whoa, easy there," I said, splaying my hands to focus her. "One question at a time, ok? Pick one."

Her mouth quirked. "Are you really seventeen?" She had a knack for picking the hard questions.

"Mostly," I said vaguely.

"What the fuck does that mean?" she asked, exasperated.

"Later. Any other questions?"

She rolled her eyes. "Only a few thousand. What did this girl say about me that got you fired up enough to defend my honor?"

"She called you my pet." Saying it out loud had my muscles tensing again, thinking about Bella like some kind of blood slave.

"That's not so bad," Bella scoffed. "I thought it would be something worse."

She didn't understand. "It means something much worse than what you're thinking. It's because I'm not hu –," I stopped dead. It was obvious that I wasn't human and she so very clearly was, but an old habit of protecting my secrets was hard to break.

"Human," she finished for me, comprehending. "She thinks I'm some kind of a toy or something because I'm not . . . like you?"

"Not anymore she doesn't," I said with grim satisfaction.

"What did you say to her?"

Ah, this was the uncomfortable part. While I'd been riding the vindictive wave of glory earlier, it was more difficult to feel victorious over showing another woman my dick when I was sitting across from Bella. Something close to shame filtered through me and I ducked my head.

"Whoa, that bad, huh?"

I scratched my head. "Um, it wasn't exactly what I said. It was more what I did. I think you'll be angry with me."

"Edward, what did you do?" Bella asked in a tone befitting a seasoned mother demanding confession from a misbehaving child.

Perhaps in a habit I picked up from her, I bit my lip. "I suppose it isn't really excusable, but you should know that she was cruel to me and it had been building up to a veritable mountain of bitterness and resentment, so –," I explained.

"Edward," she interrupted sternly, crossing her arms.

I sighed. "I showed her my dick and then told her I wanted her to see what she would never have."

Isabella was quiet for a long moment. "That's really fucking dramatic . . . and super weird. Like, really fucking weird. How did she react?"

"Um, she thought I was coming on to her at first. Then she got pretty mad and asked if it was because of you that I was rejecting her."

She blinked. "Was it?"

"Yes. Plus, I hate her."

"Oh."

"Are you mad at me?"

"For what? I don't own you. You can show your parts to whomever you'd like to," she sniffed loftily.

She was totally mad.

_She's mad, _Vlad concurred.

"You're mad," I acknowledged.

"I'm not mad. I'm . . . I'm jealous, I guess." She scooped up another ravioli and chewed thoughtfully. "We never really defined what this _thing _is, so I'm not mad exactly, but just confused. Not that I want you to start flashing me or anything," she added hastily through her food.

"I'll never do it again," I promised, relieved that she wasn't angry. "You're still the only girl I've asked on a date and kissed. I even climbed into your window to deliver custom ordered food."

"That's true." She smiled briefly. "So just don't be an asshole anymore?"

"No promises, but I'll do my best."

"Now, I believe I was asking questions here."

"Yes, I believe you were."

She nodded, our serious moment gone. "Have you told your family about me?"

"They all know about you, yes." I hadn't exactly told them given that Alice had been quick to share the news, but the end result was the same.

She chewed that over – literally – as she bit into another fry. "Your family . . . they're all like you, right? And the girl that you flashed?" I let that last one go.

After Emmett's display earlier, there wasn't any point in denying it. "Yes."

"I kind of figured. I mean, after meeting your dad and then your brother popping into my window . . . you guys really don't hide very well when you're all together, you know. I mean, looking at one of you, it's kind of shocking, but you just think you're looking at a beautiful person. But three? Four?" She shook her head. "I didn't believe them when they said you were all adopted."

This was a very real perception. From the human minds I read, many of them found us overwhelming: too similar, too beautiful, too untouchable. "Who's 'they'?"

"Jessica Stanley. Lauren Mallory. Mike Newton, too, for some bits. They gave me the scoop."

I hated Mike Newton. "The 'scoop', as you well know, is a load of shit."

Her fiddled with a lock of her hair and the rattling sound of her sucking through the straw of her empty milkshake cup was loud in the room. "Did your parents really die in a car crash?"

I grimaced, remembering the half-truths I'd told her. "No, they did both die when I was young, though, and Carlisle did adopt me," I covered, providing as much reality as I could. "I was even born in Chicago." _A few decades, give or take, before the date you imagine, but whatever. _"I had trouble lying to you even at the beginning, you know. Everything I've told you has either been true or part of the truth. I only lied to protect the story we always present to seem normal."

Bella snorted. "I knew you weren't normal from the moment I walked into that room."

"Actually, I believe you fell into that room."

She threw a fry at me, hitting me square in the chest. "Oh, shut up, Cullen. You were such an ass. Laughing at me, knocking the table all around to distract me, stealing –," she began listing.

"Wait, what? I wasn't trying to distract you."

"Then what the hell were you doing lifting the table up and down and banging on it like a fucking maniac?" she demanded.

I laughed then. I laughed so hard. She had no idea.

She got angrier as I clutched my stomach, cracking up without explanation. "Why are you laughing? What's so funny?"

"Oh, god, Bella, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," I giggled, euphoric. My giddiness over potentially telling Tanya about my newly discovered sexual ability was nothing compared to my excitement over informing Bella about this little gem.

"Try me," she said sourly, arms crossed.

I cleared my throat, pulling myself back together as the titters died down. How did I explain this? "You, uh . . . you've noticed that I'm a bit more _solid_ than the average person."

"Solid? Your skin feels like iced marble, dude."

"Yes, I know. But what I'm trying to say is that my whole body is like that."

She blinked.

"Bella, my _whole_ body," I reiterated, sighing.

"Oh." Her chocolate eyes ran down the length of my bare chest to rest at my groin, her cheeks flushing. "_Oh._" Suddenly, a rather hysterical giggle burst out of her. "Do you remember? Ice dildo." She laughed again, covering her mouth as eyes went wide. "Holy shit, _ice dildo_," she repeated, clutching at her sides just as I had done moments before.

I raised an eyebrow. "Are you done?"

After a few more seconds of manic laughter, she quieted, nodding obediently even as her face reddened from trying to restrain herself. "What does that have to do with distracting me?"

"That's just it. I wasn't trying to distract you on purpose that first day. When I saw you . . . I got a . . . well –," I stammered.

"A boner?" she supplied helpfully, glancing at my crotch again.

"Yes," I said, relieved. "And, for me, I was _literally _rock hard when that happened. The force of it – it was kind of sudden. Well, anyway . . . that was what was banging against the lab desk."

"Well, that's flattering," she said delicately. "That's a lot nicer than you purposefully trying to get me in trouble."

"Flattering?" I repeated incredulously.

"Yes, flattering," she agreed more decisively, chewing on her last fry. "It makes me happy to know I have the power to pop such a powerful boner." She accented each 'p' with a little jab of her stubby fry. "Plus, it sounds like you beat some bitch down for calling me names. So that's kind of sweet, too, I guess. I mean, violent, but sweet."

My mouth might have been hanging askew. She was seriously insane, though I wasn't sure why that surprised me anymore.

"Does that happen to you a lot? Getting hard enough to break shit, I mean."

I blinked several times, gathering myself because she was taking this far too calmly in my opinion. "The first time was when I met you."

"That was the first time you got an erection? Or just one that intense?"

"Christ, this is embarrassing. That was the first time ever. That's why I kind of went overboard and whipped out my dick with Tanya. She knew I couldn't get an erection before and she would always tease and torment me."

"Wow, what a bitch," Bella said angrily. "No wonder you kicked her ass. And don't be embarrassed. It's ok. In a weird way, that makes the wholething even more flattering." She smiled encouragingly at me.

_And now to drop the other shoe. _"It, um . . . it hasn't gone away since."

Now it was her turn to blink, smile falling. "Ever?"

"Well, once, but I don't really want to talk about that. For the most part, the answer is no."

"You've had a constant erection for a week?" Had it only been a week? It felt longer, like she had been here forever.

I shrugged. "Yes."

"No wonder you were showing off your friend there," she mumbled to herself.

I could see her trying to adjust to this idea, though it was definitely more in the realm of normal than other topics we could have been discussing. Small blessings, I supposed.

"You haven't masturbated?" she asked with a little quaver in her voice. "Doesn't that help?"

My eyes shut for a moment, trying to fend off that traumatic, vividly pink tinged memory. "No, it doesn't it help." It _definitely_ did not help.

"Is that normal? I mean, I know _you _aren't normal, but like, for your kind?" She fumbled over the last word, not sure if she was applying it correctly.

"No, it's not, but none of this is normal." It was a vague answer, but she didn't ask me to explain.

Her voice was quiet, her chin tilted down as she peered up at me. Were her eyelashes always so long? "Has it . . . does it hurt?"

"Sometimes, but not usually." _Only when I'm around you and unable to fuck the shit out of you._

_Which is all the time, _Vladimir sighed.

She bit her lip. "Is there anything I can do?"

***V*V*V*V***

***Dramatic Interlude***


	24. In Which I Ruin My Pants Again

**Bowchickawowow.**

**Just a short chapter. Enjoy.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

This felt like the start of a cheesy porn film. The guy would complain about how his dick ached and the innocent girl would guilelessly offer her assistance – all to the beat of incredibly awful porn music. I thought about it; it wasn't hard to readily conjure up an image of Isabella on her knees in front of me, her mouth wrapped around my dick, when I pictured it so often anyway. But what if the jizz rocket gave another stunning rendition of 'Edward-Cullen-Is-Going-To-Fucking-Die-From-Blood-Loss"? I'd be so hungry. So thirsty. And her elegant, throbbing neck would be right in front of me, mine for the taking. It would be so easy to –

I abruptly got off her bed, standing at the other end of the room, away from Isabella and her temptation laden questions.

"No," I hissed. It wasn't fair, I knew, to lash out at her when she didn't understand all of the consequences. But did she have to be so enticing? So damnably willing?

She stood as well, walking towards me – quite a bit steadier than before – until she had boxed me into the corner, concern evident. Once my back hit the walls in my retreat, I held out my hands, warding her away.

"Stop, ok?"

Real hurt showed on her face, though she did halt. "Don't flip your shit. I was just asking."

"I'm not mad at you," I said, attempting to soften my tone around my panic attack. "I'm scared, Bella. I'm so fucking scared of hurting you."

She sighed, but not like she was upset or irritated. It was an empathetic sigh, like she understood somehow. Ignoring my protesting hands, she slid past my barrier and wrapped her arms around me, a full head shorter, but encompassing nonetheless, her face pressed against my bare chest.

Maybe I should have pushed her away then, but I was always weak when it came to Isabella Swan, my resolve crumbling. I wrapped my arms around her in turn, breathing into her hair. We didn't speak, but we rocked back and forth gently, swaying in spot, the effect nearly as soothing as Jasper's voodoo. Why could I never say no to her? My hand ghosted down her back, drawing random patterns into her heated, soft skin.

"Edward," she groaned. "You can't touch me like that if we're absolutely not having sexual contact because I will literally combust. I will be a puddle of Bella goo and you will have to explain the mess to my father and pay for the cleaning bill to get the stain out of the carpet."

I nearly smiled. "Sorry."

"I can't believe you're making me wait until Saturday to clue me in."

"That's only four days away," I pointed out, endeared to her mortal impatience. "Besides, you're apparently holding something back, too."

"I am," she acknowledged. "But at least I'm not a warlock." She peeked at me.

"For the love of god, woman, _stop guessing_," I laughed, shaking my head good-naturedly.

"Am I even close?"

"Not really."

"Damn."

"Just let it be," I pleaded. "I'd like to enjoy my last few days with you before you realize that I'm a monster and run away screaming." That truly was why I had put off my big reveal – this might be the only time I had left with her. I wouldn't blame her if she wanted nothing more to do with me for her own safety. I looked at her face.

Some switch had been flipped from sweet and sympathetic to angry and scary.

"Edward fucking Cullen, I am going to explain something to you and you are going to listen," she ground out, stepping out of my embrace to glare at me, hands on her hips. "I have seen you dent an oncoming vehicle, move so fast that you're nearly invisible, and jump into my bedroom window like you're fucking Spiderman. I've felt how fucking freezing you are and how you don't have a pulse. I've even lied to my father about you saving my life to protect you."

"Bella, I know –," I tried to cut in.

"I am mad at you. Shut the fuck up for a minute," she demanded, breathing hard. She straightened up, took another step away from me, and began pacing the room. "Even before all of your freaky shit came out, I knew you were different and I still agreed to go on a date with you. Fuck, I even kissed you, dude. Like, twice. It didn't matter to me then, but you probably figured it was because I didn't know all the facts, right?"

"That was part of –," I answered.

"Oh my god, that was rhetorical, Edward," she trilled irritably, seething at the ground that she tread as she ranted. "You've been showing me weirder shit every damn day and, in case you haven't noticed, I haven't flipped out or asked you to leave or called you the spawn of Satan just yet. That is _not_ because I haven't been sufficiently freaked out or shocked by whatever the hell it is that you happen to be. It's because I can handle the fear and the strangeness and the circumstances of all of this. Are you listening to me? I. Can. Handle. It," she emphasized, jabbing her finger in my direction to punctuate each word before stopping dead in the little circle she'd been wearing down with her feet.

Her gaze finally met mine and there was blazing, righteous fire reddening her face and her chest. I'd never seen her look more beautiful and glorious, like a goddess of war riding into battle. Except, of course, for the fact that I was the opposing army and had not been informed there was even a disagreement let alone a full out armed raid aimed solely at me.

"And if there comes a point in time I decide that whatever we have between us is not going to work out, it will be because of some compatibility issue and not because I suddenly got scared. So don't you dare try to push me away by telling me that I'm going to turn into a silly, screaming girl. That shit is for the weak and indecisive. And if you haven't figured this out yet, I am not weak and I know exactly what the fuck I want," she growled, breathing heavily.

There was a long pause. What the hell just happened?

_Now, _Vladimir groaned, _THAT is my kind of woman._

I thought I might be in shock, in some kind of stimuli overload. My whole body was frozen in place, rooted to stillness by her spearing chocolate eyes, electricity running rampant between us. I wondered if it would be inappropriate to fall to the ground and worship at her feet.

"And what exactly," I asked slowly, clearing my throat, "do you want?"

She threw her hands up in the air as if I had missed the whole point. "You, you moron!"

"Um, I . . . yeah, ok," I stammered lamely.

"Ok?" she repeated shrilly.

"I want you, too!" I said quickly, afraid of her wrath, cowering despite the fact she barely cleared my shoulders. "You know that."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, nostrils flaring.

"Bella?"

"What?" she snapped.

"You're kind of scary sometimes."

Those candy eyes flicked open and locked onto mine. "You have _no_ idea." She smiled a bit over repeating my own phrase back at me.

"I didn't mean to offend you. I forget sometimes how brave you are." Or stubborn. Same thing, really.

Instead of responding, she looked down with a frown. "I'm dirty."

Fuck yes, my dirty girl. While my gutter mind delighted in that phrase, my practical side saw that she had dirt smeared along her hands and chest from hugging me. "Oops."

"We should shower," she said matter-of-factly.

My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

"Easy, cowboy. I didn't mean together," she quickly defended.

_Damn, _Vlad cursed, taking a swig from the bottle of vodka that had inexplicably manifested in my mind – Christ, my delusions were getting worse.

At that moment, briefly imagining the two of us in a tiny porcelain space with hot water cascading down our bodies, Count Cockula twitched. Normally, that would not have been a problem, contained by the duct tape. But I'd ripped that sheath off to introduce Tanya to my dick and had failed to replace that restraint when I ran here in my haste to escape retribution.

That twitch popped the button of my jeans off, tore the elastic band of my boxers briefs, and ripped the zipper in two. And, for the second time today, Count Cockula sprang forth to greet the world.

Bella, hearing the ripping noise, looked down for a long moment in confused shock, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. "Holy shit!" she exclaimed before seeming to come to her senses and avert her gaze. Tanya had said that. I wondered if Count Cockula would always inspire that reaction from women.

_Pfft, 'women' as in plural? Get over yourself, fuckwad. You know this is the only piece of ass you'll ever get, _Vladimir said.

Of course, I barely had the brain space to consider that given my utter embarrassment. Panicking, I ran at vampire speed to grab the first thing I saw, covering myself with the very copy of _Pride and Prejudice _I'd been examining earlier. It must have been a ridiculous sight to see a dirty shirtless man with his pants burst open, clutching a literary classic.

"I am so sorry," I apologized profusely. "I didn't mean for that to happen. It's just – when you said – I usually have it – Christ, I'm so sorry." How did I explain that I usually duct taped my dick down to avoid such disconcerting situations?

Bella, still wide eyed, watched me babble. I thought she might throw me out, make me leave, call me an over-eager pervert.

Then she was laughing.

***V*V*V*V***

**Poor Edward.**


	25. In Which She Laughs

**So many of you have reviewed every single chapter and I'm just so grateful. So thank you. :)**

**Love,**

**MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

I could barely believe it. Laughing? It was the doubled-over-scarcely-breathing-through-wracking-giggles kind of laughter. Her face was bright red with amusement and she wiped tears from her eyes, cracking up every time she seemed to be nearing the end of the hilarity.

I preferred it when she was in shock, I decided. However, while it wasn't the kind of reaction a man wanted in response to his dick, at least she didn't seem angry over my sexual perversion. I stood with _Pride and Prejudice _as my guardian, waiting.

"Edward," she gasped between laughs, "that was hands down," – giggle, giggle –, "the _funniest _shit that has ever," – giggle –, "happened to me." Attempting to clear her throat, she wiped her eyes once more, seeing that I was not nearly as amused as she seemed to be. "It just, like, popped out to say 'hello'," she tried to explain, collapsing into titters again. "I mean, I just mentioned a shower and your dick – oh my god, it was so funny. Fuck, my stomach hurts from laughing. It was _so_ funny."

"Not that I was planning this, but I was hoping for a bit of a different reaction," I pointed out dryly.

"Oh, Edward," she said, true repentance on her face despite the brief interludes of giggling. "I'm sorry. I didn't," – giggle –, "mean to laugh at you. It was so surprising. And you're holding the book that you bought me. I'm," – giggle, giggle –, "sorry. I'm not laughing at your," – hiccup, giggle –, "um, penis. I think it's, uh, a nice, you know, penis. I was just," – hiccup –, "laughing at the situation. Like, I was so mad at you and you already broke your promise to never flash people again and then you just," – belly laugh –, "you know, _boop_." She made a swift upward motion with her arm.

God, I hoped this was the drugs. That would save a tiny shred of my ego.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, snickering. "I'm going to go wash the dirt off and calm down a bit. I'll be back in a few minutes." With one last lingering glance at _Pride and Prejudice_, she left the room.

Though I never liked being separated from her, I sighed in relief. Christ, that was about three-hundred-sixty degrees of awful. And what was I supposed to do to cover up? My pants were ruined.

My phone vibrated in my pocket with a text message from Alice.

_LOL – _A

I nearly tossed the damn thing out the window. I wanted to wring that psychic's scrawny little neck. Bitch. Before I had time to reply with a big 'fuck you', a new message came in.

_You're on your own with this one. Maybe you'll think twice before you attack our cousins again. – _A

So this was why they had let me leave so easily without punishment. This humiliation _was_ the punishment. How had I missed this when reading their minds? What was the fucking point of having telepathy if it couldn't save me from shit like this? Unless this had just been an unfortunate coincidence that worked out in the favor of retribution? Either way, I was not a happy camper.

_No matter what you do to me, it doesn't change the fact that my dick is bigger than Jasper's. – _E

She didn't send a response back (probably because I spoke the motherfucking truth and I was proud of it despite the trouble aforementioned dick had caused thus far) and I put my phone on Isabella's bed, not wanting to deal with it anymore. Then, I returned to examining my options. I could try to repair my pants, but that didn't sound promising – did she even have a needle and thread around here? I also debated stripping bare and waiting for Bella, daring her to laugh – Vladimir nominated that plan. However, I merely replaced _Pride and Prejudice _on her nightstand and grasped my discarded shirt, wadding it over my lap and sitting in the rocking chair in the corner. This would have to do.

Bella hadn't taken a shower at her own suggestion, but had simply wiped away the dirt with a towel from the look of it. Returning with a sobered, apologetic expression, she offered me a warm, damp washcloth to clean myself off. I took it wordlessly, one hand keeping the shirt in place while the other scrubbed at my torso.

"I really _am _sorry," she said bashfully after a few moments of watching me wipe the dirt away. "Are you ok?"

I gave her a _look_. "Not every man can say that the first time his girlfriend saw his dick, she broke into hysterical laughter. And then called it 'nice' during her apology."

"Girlfriend?"

_Jeez, is that not ok either? _I sighed. "You're kind of missing the point here."

"Right, sorry. I was just in shock. I mean, it's not like every man rips his pants open with the force of his own dick at the mere mention of a shower."

"I told you," I muttered darkly, remembering denting the wood of the lab table that first day.

She looked at me from under her eyelashes. "I can see why that girl was mad that she wasn't getting any action from you."

I choked. Again. (Like, seriously. What the fuck was up with that? Every time she said something provocative, my mouth pooled with venom enough to gag a horse.)

"Can I touch it?"

"What?" Of course, I'd heard her with perfect clarity, but still, what the fuck? Was I actually drooling? Did vampires even do that? Maybe just the vampires that had motherfucking insane human girls asking for death via dick.

She blushed crimson. "Sorry, that's super awkward. I can't even believe I just said – actually, wait. Yes, I can. I just . . . you were saying it's like, you know, the rest of your body and I'm curious."

"Um," I said, scratching my head sheepishly, "I don't know if that's a good idea." With my luck, I'd probably climax from one touch and drench her face with blood and semen and then drain her if I didn't die from blood loss first. And then I'd have to pay for the cleaning bill to remove the stain from the carpet.

She shook her head. "I'm not explaining this very well. I'm not trying to trick you or anything – you know, like to have sex with me or let me get my funk on or whatever. I know you're anti-sex right now, but this isn't about sex. I'm just . . . I'm objectively curious."

"Objectively curious?" I repeated wryly. That wasn't terribly reassuring. "Look, I get what you're saying, but keeping you safe –," I said.

"Unless there's something you need to tell me, I really doubt it bites."

_No, but I do._

However, I was a male. A male that had salivated for sexual contact for a century. Maybe I could do this. Was a single touch going to kill me? Or her for that matter?

_For the love of god, the girl said it's in the name of science! Science! What nobler purpose do you require? Or are you against science now? _Vladimir tried to convince me with all the oozing desperation of a used car salesman. But it was enough of a nudge against my rapidly weakening resistance to cinch the deal.

"Ok," I agreed solemnly, questioning my own mental solidarity. "But if I tell you to stop, I'm really fucking serious."

She nodded, though I could see she still didn't believe I would hurt her. Did she really trust me so much already? Approaching, she, perhaps in some bid to torture me further, got down on her knees in front of me, one hand grasping the rocking chair in which I sat, looking like an angel with sinfully sexual she-devil eyes. Science, my sparkly white ass.

"If you laugh again, I'm not going to answer a single one of your questions until Saturday," I threatened her.

Bella rolled her eyes. "Relax, Sparky."

Finding no other reason to delay, I slowly removed the shirt from my lap, Count Cockula raised in a proud, one-man salute, pointing directly at Isabella in desperate invitation. I watched her face carefully for any sign of ego-crushing amusement, but found only an intense concentration – maybe even a wary admiration. Her pale hand snaked forward and grasped my shaft, tantalizingly warm.

"Oh," she said softly, running her fingers over me to test the texture and temperature. Then, god bless her, she experimentally flexed her wrist, moving her little fist up and down.

"Christ," I groaned low in my throat, my hands clamping around the wooden armrests. How could a simple touch feel so sensuous and intense? How had I lived my life without this sensation, this glorious heat?

Her chocolate eyes rose to look at me, pupils dilated, her lower lip snagged in her teeth as she smirked – it was the kind of smirk that said "I like this dick and I own it now and it going to be so motherfucking awesome", the kind of smirk that made a man proud, the kind of smirk that drove men crazy with desire. She pumped her hand up and down once more, her fingers fluttering over me like kisses of heat, watching my reaction.

Had I ever planned to stop her? I didn't want to.

She pulled away then as if some silent signal had been cued, dropping her hand. "Sorry, I lied. It was a little bit about sex."

I wasn't sure if ragged breathing and a tortured moan paired well enough to form an appropriate response, but that was all I could manage. I was officially a two-pump chump. Would it be imprudent to beg her to keep going, consequences be damned?

_Don't stop! Nooo! _Vladimir wailed, gnashing his teeth.

I watched through half-closed eyes as she stood from her kneeling position and stared at me concernedly. Was there something wrong with my face?

"Edward, say something."

"Fuck," I said. That was something.

Her hands touched either side of my face, directing my attention. "Are you ok?" She seemed be to asking me that question a lot recently. I was the one supposed to be looking out for her wellbeing because she was the fragile human. When had I become the weak one?

"The physical release without . . . um, going through the proper channels . . . it almost killed me last time," I panted, though I had no need for air. Especially air infused with her dizzying scent. But it felt natural to my body to be leaning towards panic mode – and the accompanying hyperventilation. Not panic for potentially blowing a load in her face – though, that was still a legitimate concern – but panic for the consequences of not having any kind of relief. I wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

Her hands squeezed my face a bit tighter, though the pressure remained a faint whisper against my skin. "You're not making any sense."

"This is the first kind of relief I've gotten," I tried to explain. "And now it's so much fucking worse." It was true. Every part of me hurt, wanting Bella with a kind of vicious passion that overrode every other impulse. And now she had touched me, had given that yearning the tiniest taste to fuel the fire, a kind of cruel awareness.

"I'm sorry. Really. I didn't know it would hurt you." She bent too close. I could see down her shirt, see the tops of the very breasts I had peeked at. I felt that monster tug at me, wanting to animate my limbs enough to grab her and set her right the fuck down on my valiant steed. My fingers flexed as if to move towards, to make that vision a reality.

"Go," I growled at her in a voice that wasn't my own, feeling wood crackling under my hands.

"What?" She was confused, not listening to me, still far too close.

"Isabella, if you don't get to the other side of this room in three seconds, I'm literally going to fuck you to death," I said, again in that low, dangerous voice that didn't quite belong to me.

That got her attention. She backed away quickly until hitting the bed, eyes on me the whole time. I must have scared her; I could smell the adrenaline in the electrified air between us. I tried not to look at her, tried not to imagine the things I could do to her delicate, vulnerable body.

Through the years of mastering control of my own urges, I had grown well acquainted with the beast that craved blood, had learned how to calm him, to quell his thirst. This wasn't that beast. This was a different monster that grew darkly possessive of Isabella, that craved intimate knowledge of her body rather than her blood. This monster wanted satiation. I had met him before, had heard his rumblings of unrest. But now? Now he'd clawed his way through to the forefront due to Bella's proximity, demanding and overwhelming. I loved Isabella for the light she gave me, the humanity she revived. But this monster was the darkness she awoke in me with equal ferocity.

***V*V*V*V***

**Bella's got some balls, huh?**


	26. In Which Papa Bear Returns

**I love me some Chief Swan.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

To an observer, I was sitting silently in a rocking chair, staring at a girl. But I was fighting an intense battle of wills as I locked every muscle in place to keep myself seated and sane.

When my phone began to ring from where it sat on the bed, I didn't dare move to answer it even if I wanted to, instead letting the tune "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" play with a startling contrast to the silence.

"Are you going to get that?" Bella asked me hesitantly.

I didn't answer, didn't trust myself to speak.

She frowned and then picked it up. "Hello?"

"Bella?" Alice's voice asked, sounding confused. She hadn't been expecting her to answer. That right there was concerning. If Alice's foresight wasn't at its peak, that left other doubt to seep in. Was I really going to harm Bella? I no longer had the consolation of Alice surely stepping in if she saw anything too dangerous happening.

Bella held the phone away from her face to stare at it, probably wondering how Alice had known her name. "Yes. You're Edward's sister, right?"

"Yes. Listen, I need you to go downstairs, ok?"

"Are you at my house or something?"

"Bella, you have been amazing taking all of this in stride, but this is one more thing you need to do now and ask about later. It will all make sense later, I promise."

"Ok," she said quietly with a displeased, martyred expression. "Edward's kind of –," she began.

"Yes, I know. He'll be fine. You just surprised him."

"How did you –?"

"Bella, go downstairs, please. Now," Alice emphasized, voice strained. She must have seen me ravaging her.

"I'm going. I'm going."

"Good," Alice said before abruptly hanging up.

Bella looked at the phone confusedly before watching me again. "Your sister says I have to go downstairs."

When I didn't respond, she let out a big sigh and followed her orders, muttering something about how entitlement ran in the family as she descended.

The moment she left, it was easier to move, to think, to breathe. Achingly slowly, I got up from the rocking chair and sighed in disappointment upon seeing that I had splintered the armrests on either side with deep, fingerlike gouges at the ends. Oops. I'd buy her a new one.

At first I thought that Alice had ordered Bella downstairs to keep her out of my potentially destructive path, but it became clear after thirty seconds that she had been sent to greet her father as well. Perhaps he would have come upstairs to check on Bella otherwise and found an immobile dude with his raging hard boner hanging out, too.

Chief Swan drove up in his police cruiser and entered the house, his steady heartbeat calm as he walked through the living room. Bella must have been seated down there somewhere.

"Hey, Bells. How are you feeling?"

"What are you doing home early?" Bella asked peevishly, ignoring his question. "I thought you were too busy interrogating my friends."

The Chief sighed. "You know I have to ask everyone questions, even that Cullen kid."

"When were you planning on telling me that you're trying to find out who damaged Tyler's brakes?" she asked, sounding every bit as feisty as she usually was. At least I wasn't the only one on the receiving end of that temper.

There was rustling downstairs and the sound of the refrigerator opening and closing, followed by the pop and fizz of a bottle opening.

"Don't ignore me. You shouldn't go around trying to accuse people of something that was probably an accident," Bella continued, the sound of her footfalls echoing upstairs. "Look, I know you're just trying to look out for me and do your job, but you're wasting your time on something silly."

"There was nothing accidental about those brake lines, Bella. Why are you so upset about this? Don't you want to find out who endangered people's lives?" he asked.

"I'm not upset – I'm just . . . don't you think you could find a better use of your time? I mean, you're probably scaring everybody at school and making me even less popular so it'll be even harder to fit in. Plus, whoever did it . . . well, it's over now and nobody's dead."

"People _could_ have died," he said, taking a sip of whatever he was drinking. "_You_ could have died, Bells."

She exhaled loudly. "I'm fine, Dad. I only hit my head."

"Since I'm assuming that Cullen kid is the one who told you about this situation, did he mention anything else to you?" the Chief hedged. I knew where he was going with this, trying to corroborate my story. Even off duty and in the comfort of his own home, he was determined; I'd give him that.

"He's not the one who told me. I haven't talked to Edward since he drove me home from the hospital," Bella lied convincingly, which I appreciated given that I didn't need him to hate me any more than he already seemed to. "Jess called me after school to say that my father was terrorizing the local teenagers." I could imagine the sarcastic quirk of her lips. And even though I was sitting shirtless in her room and she had just been touching my dick, I nearly believed her myself. I supposed she was accustomed to dodging his questions.

"And you still don't remember how you dodged that van?"

"I told you. I think I just jumped. It's a bit fuzzy, though. I guess brain trauma can do that to a person." Ironic that the very reason with which I had tried to convince her she had imagined my rescue was the same that saved me.

"So that Cullen kid never mentioned he pushed you out of the way?" the Chief asked casually.

Bella sputtered believably. "Are you kidding me? Who told you that?"

"Eric Yorkie said that kid threw him out of the path of the van and then Cullen told me he saved you as well. I think it's odd that he didn't mention that to you. It seems like the kind of thing you'd tell someone," he said shrewdly.

"Well, you can bet I'm going to be talking to him about that," Bella replied. "Maybe he just didn't want the attention."

"I think he's hiding something."

"Dad, don't do that."

"Do what?"

"The thing."

"What thing?"

"The thing where you get super paranoid about anybody that I like so you have an excuse to prohibit me from seeing him." How many other boys had there been to establish a 'thing'?

"I'm not doing that. It's called a police instinct."

"Call it whatever you want, but you better be nice to Edward," she threatened. "You just said yourself that I might have been killed. By that logic, Edward saved my life and we wouldn't be standing here making conversation otherwise."

"Well, that Cullen kid –," he began weakly.

"I'm serious, Dad. Leave him alone. Don't interrogate him anymore and don't call him 'that Cullen kid'. His name is Edward."

"I'm going to interrogate anybody I need to in order to find out who did this."

She groaned. "Ugh, fine. But I think you're wasting your time. It was probably somebody being a jackass."

"Nonetheless, somebody is in big trouble." There was a long moment of silence. "I'm sorry if it makes things harder for you at school, though. I know you're trying to make friends and adjust." Reading the Chief's vague mental signature, I could sense a deep insecurity, some intense worry that Bella would hate Forks and, ultimately, living with him.

"It'll be fine. Just, you know, go easy on them, ok?"

"I'll do my best," the Chief said, letting the topic drop. "So, I'm ordering pizza tonight. What kind do you want?"

"Actually, I'm not hungry." She had consumed all the food I brought her, after all. Even her impressive appetite had its limitations.

"Not hungry? Are you feeling all right? Are you dizzy or anything?"

"I'm fine. I'm just not hungry. I am tired, though. I think I'm going to go to bed. You know, to recover my strength and whatnot."

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Good night."

"Good night, Bells."

Her footsteps sounded on the stairs as she returned to me. I replaced the shirt over my lap to cover myself, wondering if I was ready to see her yet. I felt more in control of myself, I supposed. The conversation downstairs had been enough to distract me.

I heard her hesitate outside the door and I almost thought she would knock, but, of course, it would be silly for her to knock at her own bedroom. The knob turned and she stepped inside, closing the door behind her, her eyes searching mine to look for signs of the awful beast I had become for a few moments.

"My dad's home," she told me softly. "Did you park your car around the block or something? Because he doesn't seem to know you're here."

"I didn't drive here."

"Then how did you – never mind. I don't want to know right now. We just have to be quiet." Well, that was a first. Her curiosity had an end?

"I know. What I didn't know was that you're quite the actress."

She frowned. "You heard all of that? I don't supposed you have super hearing as well?" False alarm. Still curious.

I shrugged, non-committal.

"Oh, perfect," she sighed. "Well, hopefully he'll be a bit more polite now."

I had no response, thinking her dad would have been right to keep her from me when I was such an obvious threat to her safety, even if he didn't know that.

"I'm sorry for before," I whispered, careful to keep my voice low as I changed topics. "I lost control of myself for a minute there."

"Obviously not," she contradicted quietly, "considering that you have not yet fucked me to death." Her lips pursed in dry amusement.

"I broke your chair." _With my bare hands. Don't you see that could have been you?_

She impassively took in the fractured wood. "That's ok. I hated that thing anyway."

I groaned. "Can you at least act like you're frightened?"

"Of what? Your massive dick?"

_Damn straight it's massive, little missy, _Vlad said lasciviously.

"Of me!" I hissed as quietly as I could manage. "Of the fact that I was close to killing you!"

Bella stepped further into the room and, exhaling tiredly, walked to me until her hands were pressed to my bare chest. I flinched back, but she moved with me, maintaining contact. "You didn't listen to my rant at all, did you? It's not that I wasn't surprised or even scared, Edward. Believe me, you looked pretty damn menacing. But I can handle it. I told you that."

"This isn't about you handling it. This is about –," I said.

"Are you in control of yourself now?" she interrupted.

"Well, yes, but –"

"Then forget it. Let's focus on the fact that you totally got some almost-hand job action without even adhering to the three date minimum." She grinned saucily at me, already having put the danger out of her mind.

"You're crazy," I informed her, stunned. "And not in an eccentric way. Like, in a certifiable way."

She flapped her hand dismissively. "Semantics. Can we talk about your dick instead?"

I had told myself I was used to her abrupt topic changes, ruled as she was by her whims. But that still didn't prepare me. It felt like all the venomous saliva I possessed was clogged in my throat as I choked. Motherfucking again. She was bad for my health.

"Please? I don't want to focus on whatever danger you think you're putting me in. I've had enough fear and uncertainty in my life to last for the rest of it," she said, her face grave and sad for a moment, hinting at some misfortune that told me she wasn't quite as carefree as she outwardly appeared to be. Was it her secret baggage? I didn't have time to ask. "I'd rather be happy instead."

Without waiting for a real response, she wrapped her arms around my waist – Count Cockula pressed into her stomach through the shirt – and continued. "When I touched you . . . it's just as cold as the rest of you, but it feels kind of different, too. Like, smoother somehow. Did you notice that?"

Mutely, I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. I couldn't push her away. She was like a battering ram, crashing through any ill-constructed walls and defenses with her disarming earnestness and positive perspective.

"Well, _I _noticed. Edward?"

"Hmm?"

Her face flushed. "Is the, um . . . the _size_ . . . is that normal for your, um, kind?"

Some male part of me was high-fiving himself and wearing a party hat in celebration of that blessed comment. She thought my dick was big. Fuck yeah. How could I stay so cautious and glum around her when she said things like that? Bella Swan would be the death of me and, more importantly, herself.

I chuckled, relaxing, even going so far as to wrap an arm around her – the other was still holding the shirt modestly in place. "Um, not quite," I laughed softly, cracking under the humor of the situation. "We vary as much as normal men."

"Oh," she said quietly. "Did it . . . uh, did it feel good at all? I mean, you said I made it worse and –," she mumbled.

"Oh, Bella," I groaned, holding her fractionally tighter. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you think that. It felt amazing. More than amazing. Even those few seconds were better than . . . well, better than anything. It's just that . . ." – _I have a case of blue balls older than your grandfather – _"I wasn't prepared for it."

"You want to do the nasty, but you're afraid of hurting me," she translated.

"Yes. In the worst possible way."

She ran a hand through her hair. "Wow, this is kind of dramatic, huh? Talk about deadly encounters."

I ignored her pun. "You're still crazy."

"I've been told," she said with a slight chuckle. There was a pause as a new thought occurred to her. "When do you have to go home?"

I shrugged. "Whenever I want."

She glanced at her alarm clock doubtfully. "It's a school night, though."

"I'm not going to school tomorrow," I informed, having just made the decision myself. "I'm playing hooky and, if you'll let me, I'd like to spend the day with you making sure you're fed and entertained and _not _falling down." _And trying not to kill you._

"You shouldn't skip school just to hang out with me."

"If you don't want me to —," I backtracked, already feeling ridiculous for offering. We'd only known each other a handful of days. While she was already essential to my existence, she was only a human. She probably didn't feel the inexorable draw as intensely as I did given that she hadn't had decades to build up an equitable level of desperation. Besides, I shouldn't have assumed she'd want my company for that long.

"That's not what I said," she immediately cut off my sentence and my trail of doubts. "I didn't say I didn't want you to. I just said that you shouldn't."

I smiled lazily at her. "I think my grade can withstand it." I'd only gone through high school a few billion times.

Suddenly, her brow creased. "Am I crazy to want you around this much?" she asked herself, though her eyes sought out mine for reassurance.

"If you are, then I'm even crazier," I said with a quiet fervor that probably gave away more of my feelings than I intended. I never wanted to leave her. _I love you, you little fragile human girl._

_And the tits. Mostly the tits,_ Vladimir said, charming as always.

"Stay," she said suddenly, her hands clutching at my back. "Stay overnight."

***V*V*V*V***

**Vampire sleepovers. Fun for the whole family.**

**What has been your favorite chapter so far?**


	27. In Which We Snuggle

**Sorry it took so long to post this. I have been anguishing in an internet connection-less exile. (Ok, it's vacation. Sue me.) To make up for it, lots of fluff and an extra long chapter await you.**

**Love,**

**MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

"Of course," I agreed easily, pleased that she seemed to want me around with a bit of her own intensity. More confirmation that this was a voodoo dance for two.

Her heavy exhalation sounded as if she had suddenly released vast tension. "Think we can squish into my bed again?"

"I don't know," I teased. "You'll practically be on top of me."

With those chocolate eyes lowering between us to where my dick stabbed at her, she grinned deviously. "I have no complaints."

Christ. "No, but you do have a death wish."

"You're more melodramatic than a thirteen year old girl. Just chill out and snuggle with me."

"We're snuggling?"

"Yes," she said seriously, leaning into me and tiptoeing up to whisper in my ear. "I'm going to snuggle you so hard. I'm going to snuggle you like you've never been snuggled. I'm going to open your eyes to a whole new world of snuggling."

I cradled her jaw in my hand, forcing her lips together like a puckered fish to stop her sensuous proclamations. "Enough, demon temptress."

"Ooh, demon temptress. That's a new one," she said approvingly, rubbing her face.

"Plenty more where that came from."

"Well, at least we'll have interesting pillow talk," she laughed softly.

"Pillow talk? I thought we were snuggling."

"They're not mutually exclusive," she scoffed. "Now, wait right here. I'm going to go grab something." She scooted out of the room at a hurdling speed that nearly unbalanced her frame. Only a few seconds passed before she returned carrying a large, thick, blue blanket with a cord sticking out of it. "I figured a heated blanket would make sure I'm not a popsicle by morning," she said in explanation.

"Ingenious," I remarked. What a simple solution. Not that I had ever had to consider preserving the delicate body temperature of a human before, but it seemed like the kind of thing I would not have been creative enough to suggest.

After some fiddling with the electrical outlet, Bella rolled into bed closest to the wall and pulled the heavy blanket and comforter over her body before holding them open in invitation to me. I hesitated. I was still shirtless and it wasn't as if Count Cockula had calmed down – especially at the prospect of sharing bed space with this girl.

She seemed to sense my problem. "Oh, right. Listen, why don't you just sleep in your boxers so you don't have to wear your jeans? I think the material of your – ahem –undergarments will be a bit more, uh, accommodating anyway. I'll try not to molest you too much."

_God, please molest him as much as you want. Maybe even more than you want, _Vladimir groaned.

"Um," I mumbled, embarrassed, "I kind of ripped my boxers, too." She probably hadn't been focusing on the state of my underwear too much during her examination of Count Cockula.

"I don't suppose I could convince you to sleep naked, huh?"

_For the love of all that's holy, please convince this stubborn, celibate asshole to do that, _Vladimir called out to Isabella – to no avail, thank god.

"Very funny," I said, glaring. As if I had the composure to manage such a task. I'd jizz all over this damn bed. And the walls. Probably the ceiling, too. Definitely her face – drool. "I'm staying in my jeans. It'll be fine."

"Suit yourself."

Still keeping my shirt balled up over my lap, I awkwardly crawled in next to her, already amazed at the heat generated by the blanket and her own body. It wasn't so embarrassing once I was under the covers, though I felt the curve of her hip against my thigh and the curtain of her hair against my forearm. That did nothing to help my self-control because literally every inch of this girl had been designed with the sole purpose of torturing me towards a sexless insanity.

"Um, Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think you could turn the light off and lock my door? I don't want Charlie surprising us in the morning."

Ugh, damn it. I had just gotten myself in a safe, covered position. Plus, it wasn't as if I could be taken by surprise, but she didn't need to know I'd be staring at her all night like a complete creeper, sniffing her hair for extra measures of insanity – while, of course, keeping an ear out for an angry father. Somehow, I doubted she would have extended the sleepover invitation if she knew that little bit of trivia. Sighing, I bolted out of bed, flicked the switch, turned the lock, and returned to my spot before she had time to say thank you.

"Wow, it's so dark. There must be barely any moonlight tonight. I can't even see you," she marveled.

I, of course, did not have this problem. She was lavender and pale and luminous in my eyesight. "Well, I look the same as always: stunningly handsome."

"So modest." She laughed, as had been my intent. Her hand reached out blindly, finding purchase on my face, stroking over my cheekbones and nose and lips, settling to cup my jaw. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me, too."

"Ok, I'm going to snuggle you now," she warned.

"Do your worst."

Rolling onto her side, she hitched a leg over my torso and placed her palm on my bare chest, resting her face on my shoulder. It wasn't unlike the position we'd had before where I had massaged her back, but this felt more intimate somehow in the dark while I had every intention to stay – and she wanted me here, had even begged me.

Mmm, Bella begging. Possibilities.

I was an idiot for thinking that wearing jeans would magically take away the sexual tension brewing between us – I could have been wearing snow pants, a burka, and a straightjacket and still sensed the same erotic awareness. As a vampire determined to _not _kill this girl via drainage or fucking, I was not doing well at the whole "avoid-situations-that-will-tempt-the-shit-out-of-you-to-kill-this-girl-via-drainage-or-fucking-you-goddamn-moron" part. But that was Bella's charm – I couldn't keep her away and I couldn't keep from coming back. She was magnetic, no matter what potential danger that brought her way.

"You're awfully quiet," she noted, her fingertips dancing over my sternum. "Is this too much? I mean, I would understand after what happened earlier. I really am sorry for that," she apologized yet again.

"Bella, don't feel bad. Please. It didn't hurt exactly. I'm just incredibly sexually frustrated that something so amazing felt . . . your hand was so warm and . . ." I trailed off, shuddering. "Just don't feel bad," I repeated huskily.

"Ok," she breathed, hand over my heart. "So you liked it then?" She must have been really worried to ask again.

_Steady, Cullen. _"Yes." My voice was low again – perilous, desperate.

"Good."

I cleared my throat, anxious for a different avenue of conversation. "You're not too cold?"

"No, I nailed it with this blanket idea. I'm a goddamn genius," she joked.

I rolled my eyes, though she couldn't see.

"You're supposed to say 'yes, Bella, you're a genius.'"

"Yes, Bella, you're a genius," I repeated robotically in a monotone, bored voice.

"Asshole," she called me playfully, her voice muffled against my skin as she hid her smile. "This has been a weird week, huh?" she said, changing topics in another example of her constantly shifting focus.

"Yes. But a good one."

"The best."

"Yes," I agreed, "the best."

"You know, if somebody had told me during my first day that we'd be getting our snuggle on a week later, I would have punched that person in the face."

"That's pretty violent. And ouch, by the way. Did you hate me that much?"

"Yup," she said cheerfully, popping the 'p'.

I sighed. "I was kind of an asshole, wasn't I?"

"Major asshole," she concurred. "But you've redeemed yourself. You're damn near adorable now."

"Adorable, huh? I would have gone for something like 'smoking hot' or 'devilishly charming', but I guess 'adorable' works, too," I muttered, feigning arrogance.

She snorted. "Ass."

"Adorable ass," I amended.

"Oh, shut it, Cullen. I can still you kick you out of this bed."

I chuckled. "I'd like to see you try."

"There you go again, underestimating me. I have my ways," she said mysteriously. "For instance, I could just threaten to blow you or something and you'd be on the other side of the room," she muttered.

I sighed – trying desperately to ignore the images she conjured which, for the record, was impossible with a brain capable of dual focus – running my hand through her long hair, sending a wave of strawberry scented air towards my face. "You'll understand soon."

"So will you," she murmured petulantly. Ah, yes, her secret. Whatever the fuck that was.

"Well, until then, don't go getting any ideas."

_God, please let her get ideas, _Vlad begged.

"Too late for that. You're smoking hot, remember?" she laughed. "But, you know, super cold."

"Hardy har har," I deadpanned. Then, distracted, I felt a tingling sensation along my chest where her hand rested and looked down to see her hand drawn into a claw, raking across my skin. It didn't injure me, of course, but she certainly seemed to have that effect in mind. "Are you trying to scratch me?" I asked incredulously.

Her hand fell slack. "Sorry. I was just curious."

"Aren't you always?"

"I wasn't curious for like, ten minutes when I was eight years old. It was awful," she said solemnly.

"Oh, hush. Why don't you get some sleep?"

"Because we're snuggling and having pillow talk."

"This is pillow talk? Aren't we supposed to be sharing our hopes and dreams or something sentimental?"

"Well, fine. What are your hopes and dreams?"

_Your great and glorious pussy, _Vlad said.

"Um," I floundered, wondering if the answer 'to make you smile each and every damn day for the rest of your life interspersed with phenomenal orgasms' would shout _creepy stalker _too much. "I suppose I'll go to college." _Again._

"College, huh? Nothing else?"

I couldn't remember what line I'd rehearsed this time around, what profession I claimed I wanted to devote my life towards. I'd done medical school, held degrees in psychology, neurology, physical therapy, biology, piano performance, and American history (to name a few), so I wasn't sure what the plan was for this round of education. Everything had taken a back burner in light of the immediate future of Isabella Swan.

"My life goals are still in the works. How about you?"

She shrugged. "It's kind of crazy that people are like, 'pick out what you want to do for the rest of your life and hope that it fulfills you and doesn't make you want to kill yourself forty years from now', you know?"

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"Usually when people ask me that, I just mumble that I don't know yet, that I'm still deciding. Even Charlie. I tell him that. But that's bullshit. It's not that I don't know. I mean, I want to be a scientist and a musician and a poet and an astronaut and a librarian and professional Grecian tour guide and a scuba instructor and all this shit that I'll probably never get to do. I want to experience a million things and there just isn't enough time and money in this world to accomplish it. So I get to go to some university with an undeclared major, pay them thousands of dollars, and say 'mold me into something I hope I won't hate'," she ranted.

There was silence between us for a moment. Because what did I say to that? I couldn't voice anything I was actually willing to acknowledge out loud. The truth? The thought burning my mind and tongue?

She would be perfect.

A perfect vampire. A perfect immortal.

No, she wouldn't have the sun, but she would have the resources – the time. For the space of a moment, I imagined her as Alice had foreseen – pale, eerily beautiful, eyes red, movements graceful and sure. But, more importantly, laughing. Smiling. Happy. Alice's vision hadn't shown a vampire version of Bella laughing, but I could imagine it now like it was a movie I'd already seen. I could picture us lying on a deserted beach in the warm sun, the light glistening off of our equally pale skin, holding hands as we teased each other for hours, not noticing the time pass in the face of an eternity together.

It was intoxicating, like a sickly sweet poison. I could envisage that future with startling precision, but that made it even more difficult to acknowledge that, for that potential of happiness and more than a few fleeting decades with Bella, there was also her soul and her human friends and family. I would be depriving her of those things, making her into a creature that was parasitic in nature, stripping away her humanity.

"Edward, are you ok?"

"Hmm?" I asked, coming back to the present.

"Your whole body tensed. What were you thinking about?"

"The impossible future," I sighed bitterly.

She frowned in the darkness. "Well, don't worry about that yet. Just focus on the here and now."

"That's not easy advice to follow."

"I know, but it's good advice anyway. I can distract you if you want."

"How?" I asked, though I was reasonably sure the answer would be hazardous to her health.

Without speaking, she grabbed my free hand and placed it on her breast, her eyes gazing up at me blindly in the dark. Her flesh was soft and plush and warm under my hand, her nipple immediately pebbling under my icy touch.

I took a strangled breath, but did not move my hand. I wasn't sure I had the strength to remove myself while my mental monologue ran something along the lines of "holy shit, holy shit, boobies, holy shit, boobies!" Collecting myself, gently – god, so gently – I stroked my fingertips across the side of her breast, rewarded by a soft sigh. Hypnotic. That's what she was. Entrancing and captivating.

_Forget hypnotic. She's fucking hot, _Vlad crowed.

My fingers, steady despite my sudden outbreak of nerves, swept across her clavicles – they were definitely sexy, for the record – and down to her other side, figuring equal treatment of both breasts was only fair. I stopped breathing just to be safe, though it wasn't her blood that haunted that me for the moment – it was the scent of _her_. Her wetness smelled feminine, floral, sweet. And utterly torturous.

But, still, I could handle touching her better than her touching me. Maybe I would live up to my wish of giving her an orgasm.

"Is this ok?" she asked softly. "I forgot that I'm supposed to be good. Well, actually, I didn't forget. I just kind of ignored it and hoped you wouldn't mind because you're touching me instead of me touching you."

"This is fucking _awesome_," I said fervently, my inner twelve year old jumping up and down, victoriously punching the air, all thoughts of a vampire Bella disappearing.

She giggled quietly against my chest, rolling onto her back to allow me more unfettered access. I moved with her, delighted to find my control holding. I could do this. Bending my head, I kissed her neck, down to her collarbones, down to the neckline of her shirt, my hand working in tandem to her soft, luxurious breaths. I decided there was nothing more fulfilling in this world than making her happy. Not even drinking gallons of her blood. _Don't think about that right now._

"So touching me is ok?" she teased.

"Yup."

"I'd say what a double standard that is, but your hands feel really good," she groaned appreciatively.

"Not too cold?"

"Eh, I might nuke you with a blow dryer if you ever attempt to finger me, but I'm good for now."

Christ, would she ever stop surprising me? Bella on her back. Bella with her legs spread wide for me. Bella moaning as her pussy clenched around my fingers. God, yes. My unrestrained dick twitched, briefly lifting the blankets in a tented appreciation of the imagery she created.

She glanced down at my obvious problem, probably feeling the tugging of the sheets, and then bit her knuckle as silent chuckles wracked her body.

"You think that's funny, do you?" I demanded.

She nodded, still shaking with silent giggles.

I gripped her body and rolled us over, positioning myself above her, Count Cockula's impressive length nestled between us as I hovered in a plank position, my shirt discarded so that only her sweatpants separated us. It was risky given the earlier circumstances, but I felt more prepared now, more aware of what to expect, and perhaps bolder in the darkness. It stopped her laughter, at least.

She went silent, staring up at me with dilated pupils rimmed by those chocolate irises, mouth slightly agape. Then she bit her lip and beckoned me closer with the crook of a slender finger, fire in those eyes.

I leaned further, cheek to cheek with Bella as her hot, open mouth touched my neck, tonguing my granite skin. "Fuck," I groaned gravelly.

"That seems to be the general idea, yes," she muttered, pointedly looking down.

"No."

_Never say never, Debbie Downer,_ Vlad muttered.

"I know. You've said. Why don't you get off of me so I can actually use my brain and just give me the list of things you can't do? That might make things easier because you're confusing the fuck out of me. Like, you don't want to have sex, but your boner is kind of trying to get all up inside my Little Izzy."

I returned to my designated side and raised an eyebrow. "Little Izzy?"

"'Vagina' sounds like a disease and 'pussy' implies that I've got a furball down there, so I named it something better. It's my Little Izzy," she said matter-of-factly with a shrug, unembarrassed.

I attempted to digest that information, though Vladimir was way ahead of me.

_Holy shit. Little Izzy. Little? That probably means she's tight, right? Oh, fuck, who cares? Let's introduce the Count to Izzy. Make the magic happen, _he said, salivating.

Count Cockula seemed to appreciate knowing the name of his companion because he jerked, tenting the blankets again. She didn't laugh this time, focusing on my face.

"Hey, concentrate, Cullen. We're having a conversation now. Use the head between your ears."

"Um, right," I muttered. "You want to know what I can't do with you?"

"Mmhmm."

"We can't have sex, obviously."

_Pansy, _Vladimir seethed.

"Because you think you're too strong and will break me, right?"

"Yes."

"Not that we'd necessarily be having sex yet anyway," she told me, protecting her dignity. "I mean, I wasn't lying to you on our first date when I said I wasn't usually that forward. This isn't my normal style to be this physical so quickly. Usually you would have to undergo numerous tests evaluating your moral fiber and interrogations from my father before we even got to this kind of conversation. Of course, the one time I'd be willing and the guy doesn't want to. Oh, the irony," she lamented.

"I've said this before, but I definitely want to. You know that," I said. "Besides, I've already been interrogated, so I'm halfway there."

She rolled her eyes, turning on her side and leaning on an elbow. "Proceed."

Thinking back to my mental list, I said, "You can't touch me."

"Your dick, you mean," she corrected bluntly.

"Well, yeah."

"Because you'll fuck me to death?" she teased.

"Yes," I said seriously, wondering how quickly her cavalier attitude would evaporate on Saturday. "And I suppose we can't really make out."

"Even that is too much? We've already kind of done that. And you were just touching my boobs, dude. See, this is why I'm confused about the lines you're drawing. I have no idea what constitutes 'too much' for you to take."

"No, it's not because of my control. It's because you can't ingest my ven – saliva," I corrected quickly.

"What? Why?"

I frowned. "It's possible that it would cause you the most unimaginably excruciating pain."

"Possible? So you're not sure?"

"Well, I'm not exactly willing to experiment, as you can imagine," I murmured.

"Wait a minute. What the hell is in your saliva?"

"We don't really know. It tends to disintegrate any equipment that could analyze it." That had been a pain in Carlisle's side for years given his unending quest to discover as much as he could about our condition.

Bella bit her lip. "I guess you won't be going down on me any time soon, then."

Jesus. "No," I choked. "I don't think so." Considering my body temperature, I'd need a shower colder than the polar vortex to wipe away the vivid imagination accompanying her last sentence. I repeat: Jesus. Jesus fucking Christ.

"Well," she sighed tragically, "there goes that sex dream."

I groaned. Was that what she had been moaning over in her sleep? Forget the shower. I was going to bathe in liquid nitrogen. "You're killing me here."

"Ok, so you have demon spit. Anything else you can't do? Because that doesn't leave much left." She sounded disappointed.

"No, I think that covers it."

"Fortunately for you, when you're not being an asshole, I kind of like having you around. So we'll figure it out, sex or not," she said simply, nearly disguising the enormity of what she was choosing to accept about me.

I thought I might love her more. "That's comforting. And here I just thought you wanted me for my body."

She ran a hand lazily across my chest. "It's certainly a perk."

"Well, I'm here for the tits, so I guess we're pretty much even," I joked.

"Ha!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "Tits, not ass. You're a boobs man."

Rolling my eyes, I reached around her body to cup said luscious ass. "Don't be ridiculous. If I didn't think I'd break you, I would be a connoisseur of this ass. I would . . ." I trailed off, taken away by my own imaginings.

"What would you do?" she asked quietly.

"I would fuck you from behind until you couldn't walk straight," I breathed, shuddering as the words left me. It was difficult to voice the fantasies we wouldn't experience out loud when only sheets contained Count Cockula and she was so near to me.

She grinned at me knowingly, like she was in on some secret that I had yet to grasp.

"Why are you smiling like that?"

That Cheshire grin grew. "You'll find out this weekend."

I sighed. I could suddenly empathize with her frustration over not knowing so much about me. While I still was going with the theory that she had killed someone and thought herself invincible, other questions arose. Was she a wrestling champion? Did she know some ninja shit that could render a man unconscious? What was her deal? "And you won't tell me before?"

"Not unless you do."

I was tempted to just blurt out 'I'm a vampire' right then and there, but refrained. What were four days to an immortal? "Fair enough. I think you should go to sleep now."

"You first."

I laughed. She'd be awake for a long time. "And miss out on overhearing your sex dreams? Not a chance."

She flushed. "That's not fair."

"Life isn't fair. Now go to sleep. You're still in recovery, remember?"

Sighing, she cuddled up next to me, wrapping her limbs around me. "Fine."

"Good dog," I teased, recalling her stinger from earlier.

"Dog? You calling me a bitch?"

Ah, my Sexy Bitch. "Hey, if the shoe fits."

"Yeah, well, enjoy your boner, because I certainly won't be if you keep up with comments like that," she teased haughtily, reminding me, of course, how desperately horny I was while also disregarding the fact that she wasn't going to be enjoying my dick no matter what I said.

"Ugh, if you only knew how much it sucks."

Bella scoffed. "Edward, I hope you realize that you are not the only sexually frustrated one in this bed right now. I'm well aware."

She wanted me, too. I knew this, but the confirmation bolstered me. Was she wet? God, I hoped she was wet.

"At least you don't nearly die when you masturbate," I muttered.

"You said that before, but it sounds like the kind of thing that requires an explanation. Or are you just being dramatic?"

"Ok, look. I haven't had an erection before you – so naturally, I tried to" – cough – "masturbate when everything was working again."

"And?" she prompted.

"And it didn't work. Well, it did, but let's just say my body didn't respond kindly. It would have been a real disaster if Alice hadn't brought – if she hadn't saved me."

"What do you mean your body didn't respond kindly? Did you faint and hit your head or something?"

"Imagine every fluid in your body being sucked out within the space of a few seconds until you are like an empty juice pouch."

"Oh . . . gross." Her nose wrinkled.

"Yeah. I don't know if that will happen every time I come or if it was just because it –," I cut off abruptly, embarrassed.

"Because it what?"

This was Bella. I could say it. "Because it wasn't you," I finished shyly.

"Oh, you mean, like you doing it to yourself versus someone doing it to you?"

"Yes." Except that 'someone' could only be Bella. "That's why sexual contact is so difficult to broach." And she would die if that pink semen explosion happened to me again. There was no question in my mind.

"Well, how do you know if you don't try?"

"I don't, but just like with my saliva, I'm not willing to experiment."

_Come on, everybody experiments in college. And you've already been to college a few too many times, so you're long overdue, _Vladimir cajoled.

"Hmm," she hummed.

"Hmm?"

"Yes, hmm."

"What does 'hmm' mean?"

"It means I'm thinking. I've been known to do that on occasion."

"Wow. Be careful. Don't hurt yourself."

"You're such an ass," she chuckled, smacking my bicep. "Ouch. My hand. Goddamn it."

"Maybe you wouldn't get hurt so much if you would stop it with the domestic abuse."

"I don't think it counts as abuse if I'm the one in pain."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Ass," she repeated, smiling, tucking her head into my shoulder again. "Now, shut up. I need my beauty sleep."

"But you're already so beautiful."

"It's too late for flattery. You're on my shit list now."

"I get the feeling that's a long list." The douchebag list, if I remembered correctly. And I did because I was a vampire, duh.

"Yes, but at least you have the distinction of being at the top."

"Oh, you like me on top, huh?" I leered.

"No, I prefer doggy style," she purred sweetly, turning my own joke back on me.

I choked. Again. Goddamn it. Plowing Bella from behind. Smacking her curvy ass. Pulling her hair. _And hello, Count Cockula._ "I thought . . . I thought you only had sex once. How do you know you like that?" Unless she lost her virginity in doggy style. I tried not to picture that because it wasn't wise to experience murderous rage while next to easily broken humans.

"I'm just shitting you. I wanted to see your face when I said that," she giggled, pleased with herself.

_Oh, sweet baby Jesus. Please like doggy. Even better: like anal. Love the fuck out of anal, _Vladimir pleaded.

"You know what, you _are _a bitch." My bitch. My sexy, sexy, sexy bitch.

She gasped in mock offense. "Take that back or so help me –," she began.

"You'll what?"

I never did find out what her surely laughable threat was because the Chief interrupted.

***V*V*V*V***

**Uh-oh.**


	28. In Which She Dreams

**I love reading your guys' guesses for what's up with Bella. Some of you have developed very intricate theories and I'm impressed.**

**This is a very short chapter, but I think you'll find it ends with a bang.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

"Bella, are you listening to music up there?" he asked loudly. "I thought you were going to sleep."

Her eyes widened, embarrassed. "Yeah, Dad," she called back, raising her voice. "Sorry. I was just listening to a CD before bed. I'll turn it down."

The Chief didn't respond and we both waited in silence, staring at each other. I supposed our voices had risen in volume as we failed to pay attention to anything outside of our personal bubble, but it was a brief reminder that the world did not, in fact, revolve around our voodoo tension.

After a minute passed with the assurance that we were still safe, I smirked at her. "Loudmouth," I whispered.

"Asshole," she whispered back.

I smiled. "You like me anyway."

"Well, I was keeping you around for the man candy and mind-blowing orgasms," she said softly while she smirked, "but look how that turned out."

_I can still give you orgasms, little girl. Just you wait. _"So now I've been demoted to a platonic snuggle buddy?"

She curled in closer, her hand ghosting over my abdomen. "You were getting some boob action earlier and Mr. Happy down there was nestling. I'd hardly call that platonic."

I swallowed my laughter. "Nestling? Is that what we're calling it now?" It seemed much too tame a word to describe the searing heat of my cock pressed against her with so few layers of clothing between us.

"Yes," she said decisively, "nestling."

"You're getting weirder. Go to sleep."

"I'm trying, but you keep distracting me."

"I'll be quiet," I promised, miming the action of zipping my lips.

"Oh, thank god. This is how I like my men. Big, sexy, stupid, and _silent._"

I rolled my eyes, not speaking, though I was tempted to make a snarky comeback.

"Not," she added flirtatiously, "that you need to be speaking to be distracting." Emphasizing her meaning, her fingers traced dangerously low on my stomach, inches from Count Cockula as he strained to meet her again.

"Why are you so determined to drive me crazy? Maybe I should leave," I said tightly, wanting in equal measure for her to stop touching me or never stop.

"Nooooo," she whined, hooking her calf over my hip tightly to keep me there, nudging my dick in the process – enough contact to make me hiss wistfully. "Oops, sorry. I'll be good. I promise."

"All right," I said uneasily.

Much to Vladimir's, Count Cockula's, and – fuck it – even _my_ disappointment, she _was_ good.

It took another twenty minutes for her to fall asleep as we silently snuggled and her hands did not wander past my navel at any point during that time. Maybe it was bizarre for us to be sleeping together – well, for her to sleep while I watched – with Count Cockula hanging out of my ruined jeans and floating freely around underneath the sheets after little more than a few days together, but somehow it felt normal. She had remained so calm through this whole ordeal – enough so that it felt as if we known each other for years and had always engaged in the banter we so easily picked up. I wondered if this felt as natural to her or if she frequently forced herself towards calm to prove a point.

Those were the things I pondered as I listened to her snore – good god, even her snoring was adorable – for a few hours. It went by without incident until her dreams began, her eyes twitching underneath her eyelids, her mouth parted.

"Mmm," she moaned softly.

Oh, fuck me. Yes. I'd been hoping for this.

"That's nice. Right there," she sighed. A moment passed. "Please? I've been waiting."

It seemed even my dream self was holding out on her. Oops. But at least he wasn't getting laid either. If I was sexually frustrated, all versions of me should be as well.

"I just want to know why . . . mmm, fingers . . . no, don't distract me. It won't work . . . ok, it might work," she mumbled, unusually talkative tonight, I thought. A sleepy giggle erupted from her mouth before she quieted again, her hand tightening at my side. This shit was better than HBO.

I wished I could see into her mind now more than ever, wondering what we were doing in her dream, if we were frolicking about the way we couldn't in reality.

"Mmm," she moaned again.

Definitely frolicking, I decided.

"Mmm, Jacob."

Whoa, whoa, whoa, back the fuck up. Jacob? Not me? Some asshole named Jacob? As in the Jake the Chief trusted enough to take his daughter home from the hospital? As in the Jake whose name Bella had circled numerous times on her list of my supernatural traits? As in the Jake that I was definitely going to murder now?

Who. The. Fuck. Was. Jacob?

My whole body had stiffened, my mind moving at warp speed in a blind fit of jealousy. It was only a dream and we'd only known each other a week, but what the _fuck_? She was snuggled into my arms. She thought I had a big dick. She wanted me in her bed all night long. So why was her brain focused on this douchebag? (Because there wasn't even a snowball's chance in hell that this fucktard wasn't a complete and utter douchebag.)

"God, that's good," she groaned. I wanted to shake her awake and stop her brain from imagining any man except for me, but, at the same time, I was perversely curious. It wasn't wise considering how close I was to breaking shit, but I listened attentively, gathering intel. "No, no, stop," she laughed. "Tell me the story again."

There was a much longer pause this time, her mouth moving soundlessly, her expression twitching between surprise and fear and understanding in gradual succession.

"It's not like that," she whispered defensively. "I know, I know. I will be . . . no, I know what he is. Christ, of course not . . . he said he wouldn't. He's a," – her eyes flew open and she sat up abruptly, gasping, eyes wheeling blindly around the darkened room before settling on me, one final word leaving her lips – "vampire."

***V*V*V*V***

**Much like Bella, I didn't want to make them wait days on end either.**

**Thoughts?**


	29. In Which We Are Bella and Lugosi

**Sorry it took longer than usual. My schedule has been getting busier and will become increasingly booked, so I'm back on a "post whenever I can" basis. Hope you enjoy.**

**Love,**

**MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

I supposed people woke up startled all the time, disoriented and confused. Except Bella didn't look confused. She was blazing with certainty, like she had finally grasped an elusive truth. And she had. She knew.

We stared at each other for a long moment before she lay back down next to me, breathing heavily. I wasn't sure what I expected – maybe for her to be disgusted, to ask me to leave, to at least panic – but it was not for her to refold her limbs around my body and sigh contentedly into my neck as if she had scratched an itch.

"You are, aren't you?" she asked triumphantly. "A vampire, I mean."

I didn't speak, didn't move. This wasn't exactly the kind of big reveal I'd imagined. How she had guessed?

"Never mind," she breathed tiredly, her burst of alertness evaporating quickly. "I know I'm right. Jake told me all the tribe's stories. I thought they were myths, but it all makes sense now."

Fucking Jake. Tribe, huh? He must have lived on the reservation. A horrifying thought occurred to me: had I seen this idiot yesterday in the near war? Was he a werewolf? He must have been if he knew the legends. Maybe that was why Bella had circled his name on that sheet; she wanted answers, surely. Why didn't I scan the wolves' thoughts more? Had one of them been thinking about my human? Only Bella would have sex dreams about a werewolf while in the arms of a vampire. Goddamn it.

Again, I didn't speak, in shock over how quickly this situation had turned.

"I'm going back to sleep," she said through a yawn, only half-awake now. "Sorry if I woke you up."

That was it? _Hey, honey, you're a vampire. I'm literally not going to lose sleep over this. Good night._ There was something completely unstable about this girl. Within moments she was snoring into my neck again, completely unconcerned with the fact that she had just correctly named me as a creature of the damned capable of killing her.

With one mumble of "Lugosi", she remained quiet for the rest of the night as I remained next to her in stony silence (hardy har har), wondering what the hell had just happened and – more importantly – what tomorrow would bring.

*V*V*V*V*

The Chief left for work in the morning while Bella slept – she'd progressed past snoring straight on to drooling all over my neck – and I was tempted to call Alice and ask what to expect of the reaction I would receive when Bella woke, but my pride – and Bella's limbs shackled around my body – prevented that. I would just wait it out like a normal person unaware of what the future held.

"Hey," Bella mumbled at ten o'clock when she roused herself from sleep, yawning.

"Hey," I said cautiously. Would she panic now? Would she still be maddeningly calm when she should be flipping out? I wasn't sure which one I wanted.

She opened one bleary eye to peek at me, hair tousled, drool at the corner of her mouth. Why was she still so beautiful? "Did you sleep this time?" What kind of question was that to lead with? Maybe that blow to the head really had given her brain damage. Even Carlisle could be wrong sometimes.

I shook my head. "No." _I was a bit distracted by your sex dreams about some asshat named Jacob. _

"You look grumpy," she noted. "Why are you grumpy? Is it because you're tired?"

"I'm not grumpy," I said grumpily.

She raised an eyebrow. "All right. Whatever."

Heaving a breath, I asked reprovingly, "Who's Jacob?"

Her brow furrowed in confusion and embarrassment before morphing into a flustered understanding. "I don't suppose I was talking in my sleep last night?" Did she really not remember her midnight conclusion? Did she not remember that I was a vampire? Maybe I had scraped by with a few more days.

"I think moaning is a better description."

She groaned. "How bad was it? I only remember some of what my dream was ab – oh. _Oh_!" Her mouth opened wide, startled.

Never mind, I had hoped for ignorance too soon. I watched her with a wry smile, examining the shocked expression she should have had upon last waking.

She seemed shy all of a sudden, not nearly as sure of herself as she had been last night. Sitting up in bed, she tucked her knees into her chest and rested her chin on top of them. It did not escape my attention that she had drawn away from physical contact. "_Vampire?" _she mouthed.

What was the point in denying it now? I nodded.

She exhaled. "I was imagining you eating me out, but you just want to eat _me_, huh?" she muttered faintly.

Trust Bella to make a joke out of something like this. Especially when it was the very thing I constantly refrained from doing. "Do you really want to do this now? It's a bit early in the day for this kind of conversation." _Please. Just a bit more time. Pretty please._

"Early in the day?" she repeated in a higher voice than normal, eyes going wide. "Holy shit, won't the sun kill you or something?"

I rolled my eyes. "You've seen me out during the day, Bella."

"Oh," she muttered slowly. "Right. I guess I just thought . . ."

"I don't want to discuss this right now."

"Dude, you're a fucking vampire. You don't get diplomatic immunity. Besides, you said you needed privacy to show me what you are. Well, we're alone now," she pointed out. "Wait, aren't we? Charlie went to work, didn't he?" She seemed more frightened about the prospect that she wasn't entirely alone with a bloodsucking monster than the idea that said bloodsucking monster had been sharing her bed all night. Typical.

"Yeah, he did. And I need space, not just privacy."

"You're cutting school. I'm not going because you smashed my head into the ground. Charlie will be at work all day," she listed, accounting for all parties. "Take me now. Show me," she begged anxiously.

How did I resist that face? Why should I? She had handled everything so flawlessly thus far. Maybe she could take all of it. Maybe . . . just maybe, she would still want me? The sun was shining today – I wouldn't have been able to go to school anyway – so what better time? Would a few more days really make a difference anyway? Especially after her rant last night.

"First, you're eating breakfast and taking your painkillers," I said with resignation.

She shook her head. "No painkillers."

"Why not?"

"I'm done being foggy. Besides, this seems like the kind of thing I should be wide awake for."

"Um, all right." Maybe she was feeling better. "I also need to get some new pants." I'd gone back to clutching my shirt to my crotch for modesty's sake.

"Then you'll take me wherever it is we're going?"

I sighed, scarcely able to believe I was going along with this shit after she spontaneously dreamed up the answer. Christ. "Yes. Dress warmly. Wear tennis shoes."

She saluted. "Yes, sir, Captain Cullen, sir."

My promise resulted in the fastest round of cereal eating and showering and dressing known to man considering Bella was hopping in place near the front door by the end of twelve minutes. I nearly swore in surprise when I saw her – she was wearing a scarf. No, _the _scarf.

It was a familiar navy blue scarf, the very scarf I'd seen in Alice's vision. The vision in which Isabella had teased me about hunting, had stoked my desire with the possibility of boobs, had so easily accepted my nature.

It was like a sign from above, some signal that this would be ok, that the future held joy and promise. I had renewed confidence in this endeavor to share these parts of myself. She would understand and she would want me still. She would let me touch her boobs – Under. The. Shirt. A sudden sense of wellbeing flooded me, as powerfully as if Jasper was standing next to me. I was going to own this shit.

***V*V*V*V***

**About damn time, right?**


	30. In Which I Sparkle

**Hello! I'm excited for these next few chapters in particular.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, probably wondering why I had come to a full stop upon viewing her.

"You're so fucking beautiful. I've never seen anybody more perfect," I breathed, fervent now. She wanted me. She would continue to want me. Of course she was perfect.

She blinked as if she thought I was playing a joke on her. "Excuse me?"

"Beau-ti-ful," I said, emphasizing each syllable and coming to stand in front of her after a stint of vampire speed.

There was something about her expression, like she'd never seen me before as she stared up at me. Her face turned red. "Thank you. But dazzling me isn't going to distract me from making you spill all of your dirty secrets."

"I wasn't trying to dazzle you." Dazzle? What the fuck did that even mean? I wasn't even sparkling yet.

"And yet you frequently do," she sighed before shaking her head. "Come on, Dracula. Lead the way."

_Dracula? Very funny. Ugh. _"I have to run to my house to get new clothes first," I reminded her.

She gazed over my shirtless body. "I don't know. I kind of like you like this."

"I'm not sprinting around Forks with my dick hanging out, Bella."

"Party pooper," she accused, sticking her tongue out.

"What if I get cold?" I teased.

She rolled her eyes.

A knock on the very door at which we were standing startled me. Opening my mind, I found Alice's mental signature on the other side – Christ, how had she surprised me like that? Bella was dangerous in distracting my senses, I decided.

I opened the door to find Alice's pale arms extended towards me with a pair of jeans, a tan button up, and duct tape – it had little red hearts as its design this time – in a neat pile.

"You owe me," she said tartly, dropping the clothing into my arms. Peering over my shoulder, she waved at Bella and said in a much friendlier voice, "Hey, sorry for being rude last night. I just wanted to make sure you stayed alive."

"What?"

Alice flicked her hand dismissively, her tiny pin curls bobbing. "Edward will explain. Have fun, you two. Well, not _too _much." _Don't eat my sister, _she warned me mentally. Then she abruptly departed, running in the direction of home.

"What was that about?" Bella asked, bewildered. "And why do random members of your family keep showing up at my house?"

"Special delivery," I muttered, showing her the pile.

"What's with the duct tape?"

Ugh. "That's to keep me from ripping more pants."

She grasped it after a moment. "Do you . . . tape down . . . your . . .?" She glanced frankly downwards and I nodded. "Jesus, doesn't that hurt?"

I shook my head. "Not really. My skin is too impervious for it to do much damage." I almost sounded casual despite the roiling embarrassment. Of course, another macho part of me was blowing a celebratory air horn over the victory of having such a hard, strong boner. Small glories, I supposed. Or rather, _big._

"Hmm." Good lord, she was thinking again. And not anything good by the look of her face.

"I'll be just a minute." It only took thirty seconds to disappear into the bathroom, duct tape myself, and dress into the outfit Alice had so graciously bestowed upon me. Of course, upon actually examining the pile, I found a hot pink G-string/banana hammock/spandex type thing with a note attached. It read simply:

_Fucker._

It was in Rose's handwriting. Perfect, just perfect. Ignoring the itty-bitty undies altogether, I went commando, stuffed the hot pink abomination in my pocket, and returned to Bella without pause.

She was back to bouncing in place, her knee popping back and forth when I came out.

"I still like you better shirtless," she muttered, examining my outfit.

"I could say the same about you," I laughed, winking. "Or, rather, towel-less."

She rolled her eyes. "So what's the plan now?"

"I didn't bring my car so we're going to run," I explained.

"Run?" she repeated incredulously. "I don't run, Edward. I'll fall down and hurt myself. I'll probably bleed." She paused. "But maybe you'd like –," she said thoughtfully.

"No," I interrupted quickly, snatching the conversation away from Bella, the derailed conductor of her own crazy train. "I'll be doing the running. You'll be on my back trying not to fall off."

She nodded approvingly. "That sounds better. Where are you taking me? We're not running around town or anything, are we? That might be difficult to explain to people."

"No, we're going into the woods. I'm taking you to this clearing I found a while back."

Bella didn't seem to find that a strange destination, nodding gamely. "All righty."

I turned my back to her and kneeled. "Hop on."

"What a noble steed you are," she teased, clambering onto my torso clumsily.

_I've got a noble steed for you to ride, _Vladimir said.

Rolling my eyes at both the person on my back and in my head, I exited the Swan residence through the back doors instead of the front, streaking into the forest.

*V*V*V*V*

Isabella's hands – which had been playfully tugging on my hair in an attempt to steer me as she imperiously commanded me to "giddy up"– now tightened around my neck in a chokehold that would have incapacitated a normal man. Her legs were similarly twined around my torso as we picked up speed, delving headlong into the foliage.

"Doing ok?" I called over my shoulder.

"If you drop me, I will murder you," she shouted back over the noisy wind whipping around us, ducking her face into the back of my neck the moment her threat was completed.

I laughed, clutching her a tiny bit tighter nonetheless as I wound my way through the trees, innately knowing my way to the little clearing of wildflowers towards which I aimed. It didn't take long at all, I thought, until we were several yards away from our destination. Slowing, I bent a little for Bella to hop down.

"Are we there yet?" she said, anguishing.

"Yes, it's just ahead."

"Oh, thank fuck." She nearly melted off of me, staggering drunkenly as she went.

"Are you all right?" She looked a bit windblown and a tad green.

"Fucking peachy," she mumbled sarcastically. "I think I left my stomach about a mile back if you want to go fetch that for me."

I laughed.

She leaned against a tree as she hunched over like she might be sick. "Soulless bastard," she grumbled.

That was a little bit too close to the mark for my taste; I shut up.

"All right, I don't think I'll vomit anymore," she declared, swallowing. "Where is this place again?"

I pointed. "Just past those trees." Clasping her hand, I guided her forward – she nearly tripped over a twig, a fucking twig for god's sake – until she broke through the flora lining nature's perfectly formed circle.

"Wow," she gasped, squinting against the sunlight that streamed around her unusually brightly. Without waiting for me, she continued forward, swinging her arms and rotating while singing "_the hills are alive . . . . with the sound of music_." She was nearly to the center when she turned back confusedly. "Aren't you coming?"

"This is the first secret I'm sharing," I told her, beginning to unbutton my shirt.

"Edward, why are you stripping? I was just kidding about running around naked, you know."

"Watch," I urged. I took a few bold steps forward and the meadow burst into a million refracted spots of light, my skin reflecting the sun in perhaps one of the most annoying characteristics of vampirism – after that pesky urge to kill people, of course.

"So . . . Sparky sparkles," she muttered, amazed.

I rolled my eyes, splaying my arms wide and bowing. "Intimidating, isn't it?" I asked sarcastically. "I'm supposed to be all threatening, but I look like a goddamned disco ball."

She laughed breathlessly, walking closer to examine me, pressing her fingers to my chest. Little starbursts appeared on her face from my shininess. "You're right. I don't think I can take you seriously after this."

"No?" I asked. Time for the gun show. Running to the edge of the circle, I grasped a young sapling and yanked it out of the ground in one tug, ripping the roots from the Earth.

"Edward, I already know you're strong and fast. You don't have to take it out on the poor forest."

I broke the tree in half with my bare hands, the snapping sound filling the silence of the woods around us. "You _should_ take me seriously. This could be you," I said, holding up a splintered end of the trunk. "If I lost control of myself for even a split second, I could kill you. That's what I keep trying to tell you. Sex just isn't feasible with this kind of strength."

"It's not just your strength, though. You kind of want my blood, too, right?" she mumbled. "I mean, that's why you've been keeping me at arm's length this whole time, isn't it?" she asked hopefully.

She was so much more perceptive than I gave her credit for, albeit a bit deranged. "Bella, every vampire wants blood. We crave it. It sustains us, but –," I began.

"Jake said you guys don't eat people, though. Like, you want to, but you eat animals instead and that's why they let you live here," she interrupted in my defense. "At least, that's what he vaguely referenced."

FUCKING JAKE. "Ok, before I go on, I think you should explain a bit more about this Jake fellow," I said sternly, my jaw clenched. "An information exchange, if you will."

She frowned. "All right, but I still expect lots of answers from you."

I held up my hands. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Ok," she said, relaxing. "From the beginning?"

Shit, that implied there was enough of a history to require premeditated story organization. Ugh. I nodded at her glumly.

"I come here each year. It was part of the terms of my parents' divorce. Live in Phoenix with Renee, visit Charlie in Forks every summer," she said. "Charlie's best friend is Billy Black – he lives on the reservation. Jake is Billy's son, so we always got lumped together whenever they were fishing together or hanging out because he's only a few months younger than I am. We became friends, too, and he told me the tribal stories last year over summer break."

I knew the name Black from our initial treaty. Jacob Black's grandfather or great-grandfather – I assumed he was a direct descendant – had been a werewolf. I wondered if he had turned yet, if Bella knew she was friends with a werewolf. Probably not considering she seemed to think the stories were legends until last night. But then again, it was Bella. She probably wouldn't bat an eye over a dude that became Lassie every once in a while. Even so, that mutt had broken the pact by revealing our existence. Now the fucker had a name, was my natural enemy, _and _he had given Bella the information to ruin my few days of blissful ignorance. I wondered if Carlisle would let me kill him.

"And you were having a sex dream about him because . . .?" I wasn't letting that one go any time soon.

She turned a brilliant red beyond her usual blush. "We used to have a thing," she admitted.

"A thing?" I repeated acidly, feeling my fists clench.

"It was just one summer. He had gotten tall over the year and his hair was all –," she broke off abruptly, clearing her throat. "Anyway, we had always sort of flirted," she mumbled, "but we're just friends now."

_Just friends, my ass. _

Then a thought occurred to me that had me seeing red. "Was he . . . was he the twelve second wonder?" I asked, gagging on my own jealousy.

Her sigh told me everything even without her quiet confirmation. "Yes."

***V*V*V*V* **

**Uh-oh. I sense trouble ahead. And if I sense it - as the author - I'm pretty sure it counts.**


	31. In Which I Explain

**Sorry it took so long! Life has been catapulted forward to a new pace of crazy busy so I will update when I can.**

**Love,**

**MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

The trunk I was holding was turning into sawdust in my palm as I squeezed it. A wolf's dick had been inside my Sexy Bitch. Only for twelve seconds, but still. That was twelve seconds too long. Motherfucker. I recalled my thoughts last night that wondered if she had lost her virginity in doggy style. Doggy style with a dog. Lassie was a dead man. Or a dead dog, rather.

"It was one time and we've just been friends since then."

I barely heard her. I was wondering how quickly I could run to the reservation to kill this fucker. "Do you still have," – gag – "feelings for him?"

"God, no," she said. "I know you don't believe me because of that dream, but that was just a fluke. It's all over between us."

Her moans last night begged to differ, but she seemed sincere enough that I breathed evenly and dropped the log – what was left of it anyway. She was here with me now, not him. She had stuck through all my weirdness. Alice had seen a vision of Bella offering up her boobies to me. It would be all right, I tried to tell myself. "Ok," I said, strained.

"I still have a lot of questions," she hinted.

"Yes, I know," I muttered, rolling my shoulders. _Focus, Cullen. Kill later. _"I was telling you about vampires."

She shivered a bit, finding my casual use of the word unsettling, I supposed. "You were talking about cravings, I think."

"Right. Why don't we sit down?" I offered. Humans' legs got tired, right? Or maybe some part of me expected her to faint in shock. Flattening a patch of grass, I patted the space next to me and we looked like we could have been having a picnic. Except that Bella would be the feast, of course.

"So, you drink animal blood, right?"

"Most of the time. You noticed that my eyes are reddish now. Our eyes are gold when we have animal blood and turn red with human blood." I let that information sink in as I gazed at her.

"You . . . did you kill someone?"

I shook my head. "No, it was donated blood. When I masturbated, my body purged itself of all its blood, so it was an emergency." To my credit, I said that with a straight face.

"Oh, that's awful," she said sympathetically. "So, is human blood better for you or something?"

"We survive on animal blood just fine, but human blood makes us stronger."

"So why don't you just drink donated blood all the time?"

"Well, it would be kind of suspicious to set up our own personal blood bank. Besides, drinking animal blood keeps us calmer, somehow. Human blood is excitatory. A group of vampires the size of my family is really unusual for that reason – other vampires fight amongst themselves, even kill each other when hunting humans is involved."

She nodded, thinking, her fingers absentmindedly stroking the back of my hand.

"Bella, you need to understand, I've killed people. Hundreds."

She looked at me warily from under those thick lashes, swallowing. "Ok."

"Ok? You can't just say ok. That's not ok."

"Well, too bad. I'm saying it's ok. Anyway, you don't kill people anymore, right?"

"I try not to," I muttered. Except for Lassie. He was going down.

She frowned. "When was the last time?"

"1984," I mumbled, thinking of that poor disease-ridden prostitute that had attempted to blow me. That had been an accident outside of my craving for blood, though– why were brain stems so easily ruptured?

"1984?" she repeated shrilly. "How old are you?"

Naturally, she would be more freaked out about my age rather than my murderous past or bloody ejaculations. "I was born in Chicago in 1901," I said quietly. "I was made into a vampire when I was seventeen. My parents died of the Spanish influenza and I was close to dying myself. Carlisle was in the hospital that night and he turned me."

"Holy fucking shit," she breathed.

"You ok?" I asked, concerned.

"I just need a moment to process the fact that you're over one hundred years old," she snapped.

I gave her an almost sheepish look. "I suppose I should have mentioned that earlier."

"Edward, there are a number of things you should have mentioned earlier," she informed me tartly. "So, are you like, a creepy old dude in there?" She peered at my face as if expecting me to take off a mask.

I shrugged. "While we adapt to the changing times, we tend to maintain a lot of our human traits and personality when we are turned. I am similar to who I was when I was turned." _Give or take some grouchiness and misanthropic brooding._

"You became a vampire before women even had the right to vote," she said incredulously. "I joked about Al Capone, but you lived in the same time period. You lived through Prohibition. And the Great Depression. The JFK assassination. The Berlin Wall being torn down. The Watergate Scandal. Christ, you were around for _The Jazz Singer. _And Carnegie's steel monopoly. Korea and Vietnam. World War I _and_ World War II."

Oh, World War II. Would this be a bad time to tell her I had assassinated Hitler? Probably.

"Like, my mind is blown right now, Edward. That's fucking crazy."

"So you're cool with the blood drinking, but a few decades is what gets you?" I clarified, darkly amused.

"Yes. Got a problem with that, gramps?" she barked. "It's intimidating. How am I supposed to keep up with that? You're already so goddamned perfect looking and a billion times smarter than I am. Now I find out that you've probably been acing American history courses because you fucking lived through it." I could almost hear the unspoken thought: what could we possibly have in common?

"Bella, you've just named a dozen historical events. You're still sitting here calmly discussing my age. You haven't panicked yet. That right there is incredible. You are one of the most intelligent, perceptive people I've ever met," I said earnestly.

She ignored me. "Hang on. I'm having a thought here."

Oh, boy.

"You've been alive since 1901."

"Yes."

"You're a virgin."

"Yes."

"The first boner you got was when we met."

"Yes."

"So you've had erectile dysfunction for a century?"

"Well, it worked just fine during my human life as far as I can remember, but yes. Vampires are highly sexual creatures, as well, so you can imagine the kind of frustration I've dealt with."

"That's . . . that's kind of awful. No wonder you're so moody."

Moody? _Moi_?

She changed topics again. "How long do vampires live anyway?"

I wrinkled my nose. She probably wouldn't like my answer. "Forever."

She coughed. "You're fucking kidding me, right?"

"We can be killed, of course, but otherwise, we seem to keep living."

"Seem. To. Keep. Living," she repeated slowly. Bella held both sides of her head like she was trying to focus her brain, attempting to speed over a mental roadblock. "You said you were turned, that you used to be human. So vampires are made, not born?"

"Yes. We can't have children. We simply create more."

"How?"

"You asked what was in my saliva earlier. It's venom. A vampire intending to create a new one bites the human and lets the venom pulse through his or her body until a cellular mutation has occurred throughout. The change always causes unbearable pain." I sounded like a science textbook. More like science fiction, actually.

"That's why you don't want to make out with me. You're scared I'll become like you."

"Yes."

"So I could be a vampire if I wanted?"

"No," I answered immediately.

"Why not? You just said –," she demanded.

"Because I would never let anyone change you. You have a soul and a family and it would be good to keep it that way."

She frowned. "Vampires don't have souls?"

"Why would we?" I said philosophically. "We don't die and we must consume the blood of the living to remain healthy. We trade our souls for immortality. It's a deal with the devil, Bella."

She squinted at me. "That's ridiculous. Of course you have a soul. I'm looking at it," she said, staring into my eyes as if such a spiritual, intangible thing was plainly visible, flagrantly dismissing decades of doubt and worry with the flick of one slender hand.

"Well, whether that's true or not, the craving for blood is very intense and all-consuming in the first year or two of life as a vampire and our appearance shifts dramatically. New vampires have to be taken away from their families and explained as a disappearance or death. You wouldn't want that."

She frowned, but remained undeterred. "Is that why nobody thinks you guys are real?"

"We pretty much have one rule: don't let humans find out about vampires." I smiled at her wryly, acknowledging the irony in this meeting.

"Why?"

"Because everyone would want to be one. An immortal state where you can't get sick, old, or ugly? Half of Hollywood would be vampires within a few years. With too many vampires, what would we all eat?"

"Silly me," she murmured sarcastically, anxiously pulling at the grass around her, picking it out in tiny clumps. "So, is that why you didn't want to tell me what you are? You don't want me to be one? Or you just don't want to get in trouble?"

"Oh, I doubt I'll get in trouble," I said, avoiding her other question. "You usually have to do something more idiotic than this to really make people mad."

Her brow furrowed. "Like what?"

"Like go on a rampage in the middle of a town."

"Oh. Do you guys do that?"

"Hardly ever. Only a newborn would be that stupid. But the creators of new vampires are responsible for their actions. Basically, if you buy one, you break it in."

She nodded. "That makes sense. It's like having a kid."

"A bloodthirsty kid that's stronger than you with an awful temper."

"Stronger?"

"We're always strongest in the first year of life because of the all the remaining human blood in our tissues. After that, older vampires get the advantage."

"What exactly do you consider an old vampire when you can live forever?"

"Hmm, anything over three hundred, I suppose. Lots of vampires end up killing each other over stupid arguments or territorial disputes, so not many make it past that."

"So you're still young and spry?" she asked sarcastically.

I gave her the shadow of a cheeky smile. "Yup."

Bella rolled her eyes and reclined back on the grass, lying down and staring up at the blue sky. "What else is there?"

"I can read minds," I blurted out. That was kind of an important one.

Her eyes opened wide in alarm. "Are you serious? Like, you're reading mine right now? You've been reading it this whole week? Holy shit, Edward, that's so not cool!" She smacked my arm and then rubbed her hand, hissing.

"Stop trying to hit me; you'll only hurt yourself. And you can relax. Yours is the only mind I haven't been able to read in the history of ever."

She slumped back to the grass, relieved, but wary. "Really? Promise?"

I laughed, wondering what she was thinking that got her so fired up about defending those thoughts. "Yes, I promise. It drives me crazy half the time to not know what you're thinking."

"Good," she huffed. "It's private up there. But why can't you read mine?"

I shrugged. "I imagine that everyone broadcasts their thoughts and I am the radio that receives them. You might just operate on a different wavelength."

"Oh, joy. More undeniable proof that I'm fucking crazy," she sighed. I didn't disagree with her. "Can all vampires read minds?"

"No. We all have our own talent. We seem to take our most prevalent trait into our next lives. I was talented at reading people as a human and became more so as a vampire. Alice can see the future the moment people make decisions that change that future. That's what she wanted me to explain, by the way. Her ability. That's why she called you last night and called me the night before that – she saw your dad coming home both times. It's how she knew I'd need new clothes this morning."

Bella's mouth opened into a little 'o'. "That's kind of badass."

"Alice's mate, Jasper, can change people's emotions. Emmett is very strong and ridiculously cheerful all the fucking time. His mate, Rosalie, is exceptionally pigheaded. Carlisle – you met him at the hospital – is very compassionate. He's never had human blood, never slipped up. He hates the idea of violence. And Esme, his mate, is very caring. She's extremely maternal and has sort of taken up as my adoptive mother even though I'm technically older than her." I didn't mention her dark side as a dominatrix – that might have been a bit too much information.

"You say 'mate' like it's an official term. Is that a vampire word or something?"

"Kind of," I said, uncomfortable. "Vampires don't bond like humans do. Humans fall in and out of love," – I thought of Jacob 'Lassie' Black – "and change their minds and grow as time goes by. Vampires are stagnant in a way. When we mate, it is permanent and very rarely do vampires have more than one mate."

"Ok, so 'mate' as a verb . . . does that mean when you guys have sex?"

"No, it's more than that. We can have sex with whomever we choose." Well, if you had sexual organs that functioned for more than one person, that was. "But mating isn't always a physical thing. It's not exactly voluntary either. It just sort of happens, like forming a permanent bond that links you to that person forever. It's very intense when it happens."

She bit her lip and looked apprehensive all of a sudden, maybe even forlorn. "Did . . . that girl that called me your pet . . . did she call me that because you're just killing time with me? I mean, eternity is a long time and you'd want some companionship; I get that . . . but am I just a plaything?"

That was her worry? That I was bored and she was a distraction? Ridiculous. "God, no, Bella. That's not it at all. Tanya called you that because she's a jealous harpy and . . . well, she thought I was keeping you alive to feed on your blood, like a slave or something."

"Oh," she mumbled, disconcerted. "I wouldn't mind, though. You could have some of my blood if you wanted. I mean, people donate all the time. I could be your personal blood bank," she offered innocuously.

I was up and standing at the other side of the clearing before she could finish speaking, my internal beast grumbling hungrily. Christ, she was going to get herself killed. It was so tempting to think I just take a sip here or there, a little donation every few weeks. Tempting and completely ludicrous. That little taste after the accident had taught me that. I'd nearly gone back for more, screw the witnesses.

"What is it? What did I say?" Bella demanded anxiously, staring at me across from the meadow as she sat up, confused.

"I'm sorry. Just a precaution," I sighed, edging closer. "You don't understand. I guess it's one of the last pieces of information I have for you today."

"What is it?"

"Every vampire wants human blood. It's just in our nature," I explained, moving to sit beside her once more. "Most human blood smells appetizing, but there are some particular humans that appeal to certain vampires more than others. It's like how everyone prefers a different brand of wine. Are you following?"

"Yes, so far."

"You're like my wine," I tried to elaborate. "To me, you smell like the finest wine I've ever encountered."

Her nose wrinkled. "So my blood smells special to you? Is that . . . bad?"

"Yes, very," I said gravely. "My analogy is kind of off. Imagine that I'm an alcoholic in a room full of water and one glass of wine. What am I going to drink?"

"Um, the wine?"

"Exactly. Every other human is water and you are the finest, most expensive wine, my favorite brand. Your blood calls to me like heroine calls to an addict."

Nonplussed, she muttered, "Sounds kind of intense."

"That's the other half of why I can't ever lose control around you. It's not just that I might kill you. It's that I _want _to." Would she finally understand? Finally feel the sense of fear she needed?

She shivered, her skin breaking into goose bumps as her eyes dilated. "So, why can't you just have a little bit of my blood now and then to help with the craving?"

I groaned, closing my eyes, praying for strength. "It's like handing a person dying of thirst an entire canteen of water and telling them 'take a sip and then give it back.' It doesn't work; that person would clutch at the water and lash out at anyone that tried to pry it away from him. I'm that person; I wouldn't be able to keep myself from drinking all of your blood. Besides, you are not my slave. You aren't obligated to nourish me by giving up part of yourself."

"It's just blood, Edward," she mumbled.

"Not to me."

Her mouth quirked as if an odd thought occurred to her. "Do you want to kill me right now?" She seemed to find the prospect fascinating rather than terrifying.

"Ok, I should rephrase. The things I want to do to you would kill you, but I never want to hurt you. I would like to drink your blood, though, yes. All the time."

"Wow, that kind of sucks," she said. "Ha, get it? Sucks?" she joked weakly.

I eyed her sternly and she blushed. "Are you afraid?"

"No, just a bit overwhelmed," she said thoughtfully. "It's not every day your boyfriend tells you he's a vampire."

"Boyfriend?"

"You're kind of missing the point here," she said, smiling reluctantly. "Is there any way I can smell, you know, _not _as good? Like, should I eat a shit ton of garlic or something? Would that make it easier for you?"

"The garlic thing is bullshit. And I could pick your scent out of a stadium full of people from a mile away if that gives you any indication of the kind of draw you have. However, I've noticed that smelling you constantly has desensitized me a bit. It's not so overwhelming after a while."

"So if you were to go home and not see me for a day or two . . .?"

"It would be harder to control myself when we met again, yes."

She pondered this and I could see the cogs of her brain turning towards the solution I already knew. It was disconcerting to see it happen before my eyes. "What if I gave you something that smelled like me to sniff whenever you feel especially vampire-y?"

"Vampire-y?" I repeated, laughing.

"You know what I mean," she huffed.

"Yes," I said calmly. "That would work."

She didn't immediately suggest I take her scarf, but nodded officiously instead. I wondered if the full idea would occur to her later like I had seen in Alice's vision. That brief line of questioning soothed me – she would accept me. She would stay. "So, is that everything? Any other secrets?"

I thought. "I don't sleep."

"Ever?"

I shook my head. That seemed trivial compared to everything else.

"So when you've slept over, were you just lying in bed watching me? That's some shady shit, Cullen."

"That's not exactly how I'd put it, but I suppose that's essentially correct."

"Essentially correct?" she scoffed, mimicking my tone. "Perv," she teased. "So what the hell do you do_ all_ night _every _night then? When you're not staring at me, that is."

"Read books, play piano, talk to my family. But I mostly prefer snuggling with my human." I smiled at her.

"Your human, huh?"

I nodded.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

She bit her lip hesitantly. "Are we mates?"

***V*V*V*V***

**Dramatic music. Will he admit it?**


	32. In Which I Admit It

**This chapter is super tiny. I apologize. It didn't quite flow the way I intended, but it'll be fine.**

**Much love,**

**MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

Oh, awkward. "Um, there's been some debate on the topic. Vampires only mate with vampires as far as I know."

"Oh," she said tonelessly. Was she disappointed? Relieved? I couldn't tell.

"But I think we might be," I said quietly, risking it. She should know that she had a murderous, century old vampire she'd known for a whole whopping week that was desperately in love with her in a potentially permanent, sacred kind of way despite the whole feverish-craving-for-her-blood thing. "The way I feel about you . . . I really think we might be."

I did expect some terror, some reticence, or at least _some _overwhelmed reaction. But, this was Isabella fucking Swan. She never did what I expected.

"Oh, thank fuck for that," she sighed in relief. "Because I'm totally in love with you and I was beginning to think I was going crazy," she said in a quick burst before exhaling contentedly and examining the flower she had plucked from the ground beside her, a smile playing at the corner of her lush mouth.

"I . . . you . . . wait, what?" I stammered, reeling. Had she really just beat me to the big L-word? A human?

She stared at me apologetically. "Sorry, was that too soon? I figured you'd already know."

"No, I – you . . . I was just surprised."

Her brow furrowed.

_Why aren't you saying it back, dumb shit? _Vlad said, exasperated. _Everybody knows you can't get pussy unless you say it back._

"I love you, too, Bella," I breathed, amazed as the words left my mouth. They were so true. And I got to say them out loud. To her. And she was happy about it. And _I _was happy about it. I grinned at her widely, tossing an arm around her body to cuddle her closer to me, feeling the grass underneath us and the sun above us. We may not have grasped traditional notions of romance very well, but we were together. All was well with the world.

"Well, that's good. It'd be super awkward if you didn't," she said matter-of-factly, though her shoulders fell into a more natural slope.

"Yes, I suppose it would," I agreed.

"You know, this could have been much worse. You could have already had a mate that was actually, you know, like you. Or you could have been like 'vampires don't fall in love with dinner' and admitted you only kept me around so you could gain my trust before eating me. But you don't seem interested in my blood and you are too worried about my safety to have sex, so I figure you must be sticking around because you actually like me."

"First of all, I don't like you; I love you. And secondly, '_vampires don't fall in love with dinner'_? You're absurd."

She shrugged. "Oh, Edward, daaah-ling," she said in a British accent. "You have _no _idea. Which reminds me: you're going to love my secret," she said through a winning smile.

In my nerves over professing my love – among today's other confessions – I had nearly forgotten that I, too, was awaiting information. Suddenly, I was eager, anxious, and curious. What was the illustrious Swan hiding?

"By all means, do tell," I said grandly, gesturing for her to take the stage – or rather, the field.

"This is going to blow your goddamn mind."

***V*V*V*V***

**Sorry. Not really. Maybe a little. You guys will live.**


	33. In Which She Admits Crazy Stuff, Too

**Hello, all. I know that last chapter was super short, so here's a bigger one to keep you guys happy. :) Lots of reveals in this one.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

She rolled out of my embrace and stood, indicating I should do the same, all while wearing that pleased grin. "I can't believe I've hid it from you for this long. Considering you've experienced it firsthand, I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet. You were being so stubborn about not hurting me and I kept nearly telling you then and there. But I'm glad I waited. This is kind of fun."

"The suspense is killing me, Bella," I groaned. What the fuck was she talking about?

"Easy there, Dracula. I'm getting to it. You're immortal anyway; I don't think a few more seconds is going to alter history for you. Now stay right there." She walked to the edge of the clearing while I watched, mystified. Why was she moving away? Why was I so nervous? "Ok, so you see that I'm all the way over here. Keep that in mind." She sounded like a magician about to unveil a parlor trick.

I nodded.

"Now close your eyes."

I'd heard that before. Maybe I would get to peek at her boobies again. Was that her secret? That her breasts were so magnificent I would be struck stupid by the sight of them? I nearly had been before.

"And no peeking," she added.

Damn.

Obeying though every instinct in my body was telling me otherwise, I shut my eyes and waited in the darkness. Was she going to try and sneak up on me? That would be utterly pointless considering how I could hear her – but I didn't want to burst her bubble just yet.

Then I heard a disturbance in the air, a change in the wind pattern, something moving. I couldn't place it even as it drew nearer to me. It wasn't Bella moving – I could hear her heart beating excitedly exactly where she'd been when I'd closed my eyes, could even feel the electric current pulsing that always existed between us. So what the fuck was heading towards me? I was so tempted to peek, but Bella had taken everything so well that I wanted to be good for her.

Of course, all the resolve in the world couldn't help my reaction when I felt something poke me on the cheek; I hissed and did a backflip, landing in a crouched position ten feet behind where I previously stood, my eyes bolting open.

My gaze immediately shifted to Bella – she hadn't moved, though she was now chortling in a very unladylike fashion from her side of the clearing, her face warming with laughter.

What had touched my face?

A falling leaf?

I stared at Bella, confounded. Why was she laughing?

That disconcerting shifting of the air caught my attention again, my red stare flicking haphazardly about to locate the source of the strange noise, to discover whatever was disrupting the breeze's gentle flow.

As the sound drew near, my muscles tensed in preparation, some battle instinct excited. Then I saw it – a tiny wrinkle in the air, an irregular shimmer so elusive I nearly missed it. The band swirled like a transparent ribbon, determinedly twirling closer to my face, impervious to the wind that maneuvered in the opposite direction.

Not entirely threatened by the gossamer ripple, I held my ground as it approached, more mystified now that I had a visual. Then, all at once, that strand of barely-there shine touched my cheek with all the force and concreteness of a solid object, no longer twirling, but steady at my jaw, currents of electricity shocking me. I couldn't make sense of it.

I flinched back and, in the distance, saw Bella lower her arm.

"I won't hurt you," she told me quietly, her expression inscrutable.

What a strange thing to say. As if this girl could ever hope to inflict damage on me. Just as I opened my mouth to reassure her that I was terribly indestructible, her palms twitched at her sides and that translucent gust immediately returned to my face, solidly touching both cheekbones this time.

Maybe it was the way that Bella cupped her hands or the way I suddenly felt like a livewire, electricity jolting my face, but, if I was honest, it was the tender, vulnerable expression on her focused face that informed me she was controlling whatever the silvery sheen was that now rested at my chest where my heart should have been beating.

"What. The. Fuck," was perhaps not the best answer I could have given to feeling Bella's hands on my face despite her distance on the other side of the field, but, however true that was, it was certainly the first confused phrase that came out of my mouth.

"It's me," she said softly. "It's been me the whole time. All of it. The books, the plant, the van – Christ, even you! _All _of it."

"You're not making any sense." The air compressing at my cheekbones tightened.

"Don't you understand, Edward?" she asked as if I was being purposefully dense. "I'm a telekinetic."

Bella was a . . . telekinetic? Color me confused. Who? Why? When? Where? How? When the fuck had that even become a thing? And how could I have been extolling her virtues as the epitome of humanity when she was obviously much more than that?

She walked closer. "Hey, you ok? Are you in shock?"

"Just a bit," I said, strangled. "I'm just . . . how did I miss that? I don't understand."

"Do you remember our first kiss?"

Hell yes, I did. Moe's bookstore, up against the shelves, her running leap, _Pride and Prejudice. _Ugh, _Pride and Prejudice. _Count Cockula's unfortunate introduction was also a memory that leaped out at me.

"Remember how all those books fell down from the shelves behind you?"

I nodded, recalling how she had accidentally kicked them down.

"That was me," she explained. "I didn't touch them, but it was me."

Holy shit.

"And afterwards? On the Weber's porch? That hanging plant that came careening down?"

A loose screw, I had thought.

"Yeah, that one was me, too," she admitted. "That's why I told you I couldn't date you at the beginning. It scared the fuck out of me that kissing you caused me to lose control of my power. It seemed so stupid for someone like me to try and date someone that could cause that kind of unpredictable reaction."

Lose control? That was a concept with which I was more than adequately acquainted. I had been controlling myself. I _was_ currently controlling myself. I _would_ be controlling myself for the foreseeable future. Had she been holding back as much as I had?

"And then, of course, there was the van."

I choked. "The van?"

She looked sheepish. "Remember how you backed me up against my truck when I told you I didn't like you? How you were staring at me and you were so close? Tyler's van kind of paid for that one. My ability lashed out because my body was feeling so hyped up. That's why I was so nervous and telling you to get out of my face."

_Stop touching me. For the love of god, please stop, _she'd said to me, panic on her face.

"Obviously, I didn't realize the van was going to end up careening towards me, but I was about to stop it before you came out of nowhere like some kind of avenging angel."

"You . . . you cut Tyler's brakes . . . with your mind?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I felt really bad about that. I was so worried about Tyler and I was so horrified when you told me Charlie is interrogating people about a crime that is totally my fault. An accident, obviously, but my fault nonetheless."

All these pieces were beginning to come together and I stared in amazement, completely in awe of the girl – the woman – before me. No wonder she wasn't scared of me. How the fuck had I missed this? Seriously, how?

But, deep down, I knew the answer to that.

I had been so engrossed in my own otherness, my own secret, that I had barely spared a thought for the idea that Bella was something strange, too. I didn't even have the excuse of ignorance towards the more supernatural side of life given that I was part of the occult myself. But even then, how could I have guessed something like this? I knew vampires that had special talents, but I had never seen a human with a power so resolutely manifested.

"Oh, and I'm sorry I didn't seem grateful when I was in the hospital," she continued through my thoughts. "I was kind of pissed that you smacked my head when I was going to save myself without any damage," she admitted as if going through a checklist of things she'd been waiting to tell me. How many other instances of this incredible display had I missed due to my obnoxious obliviousness?

"So this . . . this _power_ – it's triggered by what exactly?"

"Well, at first, it was when you kissed me. Then it was just you being near me. Strong emotion tends to bring it out. That used to happen when I was younger before I had more control."

"But nothing else has happened and we have been even closer," I pointed out. Or had I missed other signs? I wanted to pretend I wasn't that unaware.

She smiled wanly. "Painkillers. They dull my mind. They dull _everything_."

"That's why you didn't take them this morning," I stated, understanding now.

"Yeah. I was letting them cycle out of my system so I could show you. I'm usually stronger than this, but they're still affecting me."

"Stronger?" I squawked. Christ almighty.

Her smile grew confident. "Oh, yes. You're not the only one that can shatter trees, Edward."

_Keep your shit together, Cullen. _"You, uh, you said I experienced this power firsthand. Did you mean the van?"

She shook her head. "No. Don't you always feel that pulsing between us?"

The electricity. I thought it was just my intense awareness of her, our physical connection. But hadn't it always been present when she accidentally used her power? Holy fucking shit.

I nodded mutely, acutely aware of that crackle between us now, alive and thriving.

"I thought so," she muttered, playing with a strand of her hair. "I also pinned you to the wall last night. That's what I meant. You must have felt it."

Last night? What?

"When I got mad and was ranting at you," she prompted.

When I'd been shocked to the point of being unable to move? Or so I'd thought, anyway. "That was you?"

She smiled. "Yeah. I got all worked up and some of it seeped out, even if I _was _drugged. I suppose it was just because I wanted you to stand still and listen to me. Anyway, I thought maybe you'd figure it out then. But I guess not, huh?"

I shook my head. "I had no fucking clue." Wow, lame. She had figured out I was a vampire in a few days – in her sleep, no less.

"Well, now you know," she said cheerfully.

"Do your parents know?"

The smile faded. "No. I've always been like this, but it really came out in full force when I was around thirteen and it seemed like the kind of thing I should hide. When I was a toddler, my parents always used to laugh and tell people how I could get into anything no matter how high up they put it. They just thought I was good at climbing," she said ruefully.

I felt like an idiot for having missed this for a week, but to not notice it for seventeen years? And here I thought the Chief was perceptive. "This is insane," I told her. It had never been more obvious to me that I'd been stupid to not take her more seriously when she said she had a secret.

"Hey, you're still the weirder one between the two of us."

"Maybe," I conceded. "But not by much. I mean, you can move shit _with your mind_."

"Yes, Edward. I'm well aware," she said dryly.

"So you've been this way your whole life?" While I was made, not born, she seemed to be born, not made. We had some Yin and Yang shit up in here.

She nodded casually. "Kind of fucked up, right?"

"Why are you . . . the way you are?"

Cue lip biting. "I have no idea." The uncertainty in her voice was only eclipsed by the frustration. "I've been researching actually – which is a pain in the ass, let me tell you."

"Researching? Are there other people like you?" Was there a fucking web forum? An online chat room? A Telekinetics Anonymous?

"If there are, I haven't met any." She paused and snorted. "You know how I was so pissed when you stole that notebook?"

"Oh, do I remember." Pissed enough to be blackmailed into a date with me.

"I keep my references in there and I was scared you'd somehow magically know what it all meant and find out what I am."

"I don't understand." References to what?

"I kept the ID numbers of the different books in which I found anything worthwhile. They're all from Phoenix's public library. Books about mythology and physics and neuroscience and anything else that might explain this. I kind of gave up on looking for answers after I moved, but you can imagine why I didn't want some douchebag getting his hands on it." A teasing smile lit her face, though I barely saw it given my preoccupation.

Holy shit, the code numbers I'd stared at, clueless. Codes for books. Unbidden, I recalled another entry in her notebook, something much cannier.

_Tingling. Electricity. A swooping sensation in my stomach, like falling. Adrenaline._

She'd written those words in her tight scrawl, right under my nose the whole time. Electricity. I'd held the answer in my hands from the beginning. How could I have been so blind?

_Probably because you were too busy rubbing the bloody notebook against your dick to actually focus on the shit she wrote, _Vladimir said irritably – he was never in a good mood.

"You're quiet," Bella muttered as the silence continued.

"Sorry," I murmured. "I'm absorbing all of this."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," she grumbled, eyeing me pointedly.

"I just . . . I never saw this coming. At least you had a bit of warning. You knew I wasn't normal from the beginning."

"I didn't exactly set sight on you and immediately think 'oh, duh, he's a vampire', either," she said. "Although, to be honest, it was kind of a relief to realize you weren't normal, too."

"Why is that?"

"You know how I changed my mind after we left the hospital? How I wanted to give dating another chance? Well, that was _after _I knew we'd both have to accept things about each other. Not everybody would be ok with dating a freak. Plus, I knew you weren't going to die if I lost control of myself. I mean, it's kind of a bonus to be with someone that's indestructible when it's a very real concern that you can make things explode on a bad day. I mean, why do you think I left Phoenix?"

"Wait, what happened in Phoenix? You told me your mom was going through a gross honeymoon phase."

She blushed. "That's partially true." So we had both been telling half-truths. "I kind of set off a mini tornado . . . in my living room."

"_Tornado_?" The magnitude of her power was only now beginning to dawn on me. Hadn't she said something about shattering trees?

"I'm usually completely in control of myself," she said defensively, "but I was taking a nap on the couch and I heard my phone ringing. When I got up to get it, I didn't realize my leg had fallen asleep and I went careening towards the coffee table. I think it was because I was half-asleep and my guard was down, but I never hit the table. It was like my body had pressed a panic button because everything around me started swirling and breaking and I was in the middle of it untouched by the glass and debris and shit," she recounted before giving a singular snort of dry amusement. "Renee thought I'd thrown a party."

"Did she make you leave?" Why else would she be in this tiny, middle-of-nowhere town?

She shook her head. "Oh, no. Nothing that dramatic. She grounded me and told me to clean up better next time." Bella rolled her eyes at this prospect and I wondered again what her mother was like and, more importantly, how she, too, had missed the phenomenal power thrumming in her daughter. "It was my idea to come here. I didn't trust myself anymore so I thought maybe a change of pace would be better. You know – quiet, little Forks. Funny how that turned out, huh?" Her teasing lips quirked.

"Yes," I agreed faintly, "funny."

"And here we are: a telepath and a telekinetic," she said, smiling like she found the whole thing amusing. "It's a shame vampires are sterile because our kids would be fucking badass."

We said the big three words a few minutes ago and this girl was already onto children. "Look, I don't know how my presence in your life is going to affect you long term, but you have to remember: I can't produce children."

"Why is that exactly? Do you . . . you do have semen, right? Like, you ejaculate?" She fumbled over the last word, blushing.

_God, do I ejaculate_. "I have functioning sperm cells and am able to expel them, if that's what you're asking," I said a bit defensively. Said cells were a bit too eager if you asked me, but whatever. "However, we're not genetically compatible. I have more chromosomes than you do from my conversion."

"What about females? If you have functioning sperm, what about their eggs?"

"Female vampires don't ovulate or menstruate. A period is kind of wasteful for a creature that survives on blood," I pointed out as she wrinkled her nose. "Plus, their bodies can't grow to accommodate a child."

Bella bit her lip, thinking again. "So vampires are basically just a super intense genetic mutation?"

"As far as we know," I said with a shrug. "I just need you to understand that if we're together, I could never . . . I couldn't give you that." It seemed like such a distant future – fuck, she probably didn't even want kids with me anyway – that it was a difficult concept to consider.

"I didn't miss that part. You've said it like, three times now."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

She shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not concerned with children at this point in my life. I'm only seventeen," – she paused to give me a sardonic smile, as if to say at least _one _of us was actually seventeen and not some decrepit old man lurking behind a sparkly facade – "but there are still options available if I wake up one day to a ticking biological clock. There's adoption. There are sperm donors. Hell, there are puppies if I need something to nurture. I could even buy a goddamn houseplant."

At least she and Jasper would get along over gardening.

I forgot sometimes how young she was, how inexperienced. In my day, girls her age were getting married, already picking out nursery colors. But this was the twenty-first century. Humans had never lived longer and now they had the time to wait – marriage at twenty-five instead of eighteen, children at thirty instead of twenty if they even chose to get married and have children in the first place. The culture had changed and I was staring at the face of a young woman born and bred from this new generation.

"Besides," she said, continuing as I pondered, "I doubt it'll be an issue once I start getting wrinkles. You won't want to stick around that long."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where the hell did you get that idea?"

"Well, look at you." She gestured at my body as if that explained everything. When I glanced down and then back up with a confused shrug, she sighed loudly. "I'm going to get _old_, Edward. Saggy boobs and crows feet and a saggy butt and gray hair and saggy neck fat and . . . and . . . well, Christ, a saggy everything. But you're going to look like a magazine cover for the rest of eternity without aging. You won't be attracted to me anymore."

I thought I might be offended. Yes, definitely offended. Did she really think I was so fickle? "You haven't listened to me, Bella. We're mates."

"Probably mates," she corrected pedantically. "That's what you said. That we might be." Crossing her arms over her chest, she appeared to be pouting like a sullen child.

I shook my head, exasperated. "Regardless, I will feel just as strongly about you sixty years from now as I do in this moment. Probably stronger. Don't get me wrong; your body is sexy as fuck. But I am in love with your heart and your soul and your crazy ass mind." For the too large portion of time I spent listening to my penis and Vladimir, there was a larger part of me that simply loved this girl outside of the physical realm. She was funny and aggressive and sweet and playful and loud and, ultimately, my human.

She bit her lip and I could almost _feel _her thoughts brewing. "Are you telling me you're going to develop a granny fetish as time goes by?"

"I will have a fetish for _you._ If you want to get inseminated or something, I'll go all pregnancy fetish on you. You pack on the pounds and I'll go straight to chubby chaser. You get old on me and I'll develop a hankering for cougars. You get _super _old on me and I'll move right on to that granny fetish. It doesn't matter. It's _you_."

"Not to be a complete downer – because that's a really sweet, if not a bit creepy, thing to say – but what about when I die, huh? Necrophilia? If this mating thing is as permanent as you make it out to be, wouldn't that kind of put a damper in the rest of your eternity?"

A 'damper' didn't describe it. I thought of the lancing pain I experienced whenever I remembered the vision of Bella lying on the floor, still and drained, her eyes sightless in death and had to repress a shudder. "I'd probably be a miserable fuck forever."

"More so than usual, you mean?" she jested. I rolled my eyes. Always joking, that one. "But seriously, Edward, these seem like the kind of things we should discuss. I don't mean to roll out the big 'where is this relationship going' conversation after only a week, but a bunch of skeletons are out of the closet now and I think some certainty of the future might be a nice change for once."

Why was she so rational right now? I wanted to go back to snuggling. "All right. What do you want to straighten out?" I asked cautiously.

"You don't want me to be a vampire," she stated.

"I don't want you to give up your humanity and your friends and family. I would understand if you wanted to date and marry and have kids at some point and you should be able to make that decision when the time comes."

"Ok, that's the other thing I should clear up," she muttered. "I realize we've known each other for a ridiculously short amount of time, but if you can claim we have some kind of vampire bond and that you will love me in a post-menopausal state and beyond, then I can say that I'm pretty damn certain you're it for me and I don't give a damn about dating and marriage and kids if you're not involved."

_I think my heart just grew two sizes._

***V*V*V*V***

**Were you surprised? Did you know all along?**


	34. In Which I Attempt to Get Some

**Hello, all. I hope you are having a great day (that is made better by this little chapter). Just a reminder, but posting speeds are going to be slowing down as I've gotten terribly busy. Thank you for being so understanding.**

**-MsSailorman**

***V*V*V*V***

Her eyes were fervent, burning. "I'm not really missing out on whatever human experiences you seem to be picturing because I wouldn't want them anyway. By that logic, I don't think the whole vampire thing is all that bad."

I immediately opened my mouth to protest. How could she possibly say that? She'd confirmed the truth of my vampire nature – how long? – an hour or so ago? And she was already implying she wanted to become one! I loved her . . . but she was so fucking out of her mind that I considered hiring a therapist for the space of a moment. She didn't know what it was like to thirst for the blood of people you love, to be so completely overruled by your unquenchable desire that you would kill for it. "You have no idea what you're saying," I growled at her.

"Hey, don't argue. We're not talking about that right now. I was just thinking out loud."

_Oh, I'm thinking, too. I'm thinking it's a fucking awful idea. _"If we're not discussing that, then what exactly do you want to settle?" I asked, on edge. "I've told you how I feel. I've revealed my secrets. You've revealed yours. What else is there? Unless you also have laser beams that shoot out of your eyes or something," I muttered warily.

She smiled a bit, playing with her hair. "Haven't you guessed the best part of all this yet?"

I was at a loss. "Um, you love me?"

"Ok, the second best part." She laughed, carefree again. "With all this power . . . you can't hurt me, Edward. Even if you try."

It took me a moment to grasp all the implications.

A long moment.

If I began to feed from her, Bella could stop me. If I felt outrageously out of control and wanted to fuck her to death, she could stop me. If we had sex and I exploded into a jizz rocket before attempting to suck her dry, she could stop me.

_If_ we had sex? When. It was a when. It was definitely a when now. Holy shit.

_When._

Because why not? With a few spare blood bags in case an orgasm nearly killed me again and a telekinetic that seemed able to blow up shit if need be, why the fuck not? I could give the whole sex thing a shot. Every worry I had about killing her seemed to melt away in a puddle under the hot sun of "Edward Cullen Is Getting Laid Sometime This Century".

When.

_Yes, when? When is Edward Cullen getting laid, dumbass? _Vlad asked. _I vote now._

Now.

For a moment, I didn't focus on the fact that we were not normal, that our future was at stake – I became enamored with the simple beauty of physical contact with this stunning girl. She could have been a fucking leprechaun for all I cared. I was wrapping her in my arms and kissing her neck before I had words to appropriately respond, grinding myself against her indecently. Fuck yeah. This was so happening. I'd eat a deer if my pink man sauce made an unfortunate return. Maybe it had just been a fluke anyway. My mouth latched at Bella's neck – not to bite – and darkened the hickey already present, my personal brand on her. Fuck Chief Swan. Let him come with his bullets.

Bella moaned at the contact, but feebly – even for a human – pressed her hands to my chest. "I didn't mean – mmm . . . no, not right now. We're in the woods, Edward."

"It's romantic," I assured her like the inner (and outer) teenage boy I was, kissing along her jaw. "I want you so badly."

"I want you, too, but – mmm, that's nice – I'm not having sex with you right now."

The different parts of me – Count Cockula, Vladimir, beast, monster, and man – all came to a screeching halt. Or rather, didn't come at all. "I don't . . . I don't understand."

She giggled. "You went from chivalrous gentleman wanting to protect me to a complete horn dog in about two seconds. At least buy me dinner first," she joked.

"I already did. Twice," I said reproachfully, Count Cockula straining so hard that I thought he might burst – which really wouldn't be pretty.

"I was kidding. It's an expression," she sighed.

"Have I overstepped my boundaries?" I asked, cooling. I didn't want to be the douche that couldn't take no for an answer.

_Be the douche, you fucker_, Vlad moaned desperately.

"Edward," she said apologetically, her eyes dropping to the ground, "I don't think it would be safe."

The irony was almost physically painful. All along, I'd wanted her to understand the reasons why she should fear me – never had I guessed that we'd get to a place where I was completely ready to have my way with her and only then would she feel afraid. But, of course, I understood. She said she was still getting the drugs out of her system; maybe she wasn't strong enough to repel me. Hell, maybe she simply had reservations about fucking a dude she met a mere week ago.

I released her immediately, stepping back, face repentant. "Of course. I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I shouldn't have assumed you'd be ready for that."

Her eyes narrowed, shooting up to meet mine. "You don't understand."

"No, I do," I assured her. "We've only known each other a short time and you've just found out all these awful things about me. Of course you don't want –," I began.

"You seriously don't listen to a word I say, do you?" she sighed exasperatedly. "I didn't mean I'm scared for my own safety. I mean it's not safe for _you_."

"Me?" I asked – ok, scoffed.

"Edward, the last time you were near me while I wasn't on painkillers, I caused a car crash," she pointed out. "And that was only you being near me, not actually having sex. I'm assuming something like sex would have even more extreme effects. It's kind of a conundrum actually."

"What is?"

"When I'm not on painkillers, I'm strong enough that you wouldn't be able to hurt me, though I might hurt you. When I'm on painkillers, I'm weak enough that I wouldn't be able to hurt you, but you might hurt me," she mused.

"I'm pretty durable." It came out sounding like a whine.

"I know, but I'm pretty sure I could still hurt you."

_He's willing to risk it. Trust me, _Vlad said.

"You know, I never expected the tables to turn like this." While I attempted to not seem like a petulant child, I was pretty sure that I failed miserably.

"Look, you can call me old-fashioned, but I was thinking we could start with a blowjob, for god's sake."

***V*V*V*V***

**Getting there. Slowly.**


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